


The Reawakening

by FalsettoSlumber



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, HP: Epilogue Compliant, M/M, Multi, Next Generation, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalsettoSlumber/pseuds/FalsettoSlumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been twenty two years since Voldemort fell. The Golden Trio have moved on, to be replaced by their children. But can they manage to avoid their parents' school life, or is somebody working against them to make their school years almost as interesting as the infamous Harry Potter and co?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Singed Fire

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Albus, hurry up!" Rose's voice echoed in the great hall, and he stumbled behind her, books flying everywhere as his long, gangling legs lost control beneath him. Sighing, he knelt to pick them up, as a blond haired figure above him cackled nastily.

"Going somewhere, Alby?" Grimacing at the patronising nickname, Albus glared up at Scorpius, who simply stood, languidly leaning an elegant arm on the banister of the staircase. He grabbed Albus' transfiguration book from the pile, and held out one hand for Albus to grab and pull himself up with.

"Smart arse, leave it out would you?" He growled, grabbing his book from the other boy's hands. Scorpius laughed, and started walking towards the northern side of the castle, where transfiguration was about to start. They could see Rose's head bobbing about in the crowd, nervous to not be late, as usual, and they laughed in her wake.

Despite her mother's history of impeccable timings, Rose had never seemed to master the art of arriving to class on time, instead gaining Ron's affinity with lateness. Luckily for her, however, she had inherited her mother's brains, so was not normally reprimanded too harshly. The two boys following, however, were not so lucky, gifted more with a knack for mischief and so they pushed through the crowd of confused looking first years to get there in relatively good time.

"Have you spoken to Jasmine today?" Scorpius asked the taller boy, and Albus shook his head. The haughty Patil girl had not been replying to any of his owls lately, and he was beginning to think that there was a possibility that he was in the dog house.

"She's been in a bad mood all week, I'm just going to leave it until she's calmed down. You know what she's like." Scorpius laughed at him, and pushed open the door to the classroom, where the class of third year Ravenclaws and Slytherins were already sat. Slinking into their seats at the back of the class, Professor Lupin turned to glare at them.

"Late again, boys? This is turning into a regular thing, it seems." Teddy Lupin may have only been in his early twenties, but he was a formidable teacher, and the boys shrank down in their seats, heads bowed awkwardly.

"Sorry, sir. Won't happen again." They each muttered in turn, and Lupin turned back to the board, remarking that they were to come back that evening for an hour's detention. Groaning, they pulled out their books, hurrying to copy down the notes already on the board, detailing just how difficult it was to transform a magpie into a silver goblet.

Rose turned to them from the seat in front, grinning smugly at them.

"You two should really learn that disillusionment charm I told you about. It makes it at least five times easier to slip into class unnoticed, you know." She rolled her eyes, and they snorted.

"Ro, not all of us are as perfect at seventh year charms as you are. Give us a break." Albus scoffed, and began to scribble absentmindedly on the side of his parchment. As Lupin passed by, rather like a hawk, he hit Albus over the head with his book, leaving the boy smarting with both humiliation and pain.

"Save it for art class, Potter." He scorned the boy, and walked back to his desk.

"You wouldn't have thought we'd grown up with him, would you? Why did we end up with him as a teacher? It only makes him more insufferable." Albus complained, albeit quietly, and Rose laughed, turning back to her work.

An hour later, the bell for the end of the day buzzed loudly, and the three third years seized their books thankfully, trying not to think about the three page essay they had just been assigned on the symptoms of splynching.

"You'd think it was obvious, to be fair! I mean, come on. Pain, pain, and a bit more pain. I'll just go and ask my uncle, he knows all about it!" Albus exploded later that evening, in the common room. Scorpius laughed, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer from the table.

"Don't let Rose hear you. She'd only go tell him." He sniggered at him, and Albus scowled.

"I'm so glad I didn't end up in her house. Can you imagine actually having to live with her?" He exclaimed, and Dominique walked up to them, her usual haughty expression ruining the fineness of her features.

"At least she isn't your cousin. Then you have the horror of actually being blood related!" She growled, obviously forgetting that they _were_ related, before passing by to bully some poor first year that was sat in 'her' spot by the fire.

"Yeah, and thank Merlin this is your last year." Albus muttered, glaring in the blonde's direction. Glancing at the clock, he yelped, leaping in the direction of the common room entrance.

"Detention! We forgot, dude!" He cried, and Scorpius stood up, stretching leisurely. Strolling nonchalantly after his friend, he laughed with ease as Albus stood, jittery and reddening.

"Calm down. It's only detention. What's he gonna do, give us another one?" He raised an eyebrow, and Albus glared, his dark fringe falling in his eyes.

"Always the joker, eh, Scorp?" He said, as he started jogging towards Lupin's offices. Scorpius let himself be dragged at triple speed through the castle, only stopping to avoid a hail of spit pellets hurled at them by Peeves.

As they slammed into the door, the two boys leant over breathlessly, before Albus knocked gingerly on the doorframe. A voice from inside called out;

"Come in!"

They looked at each other, Albus gulping, Scorpius grinning, and entered.

Teddy stood behind his desk, arms folded angrily by his sides.

"You two are useless, you know that, right?" He rolled his eyes, and began to pull out a first year's assignment from the desk. Albus looked at it nervously, as he recognised his sister's writing, and the fact that it was the essay he had copied not too long ago.

"Potter, either your sister was really stupid, or you were really stupid. I'm betting on Lily being the smarter here. Why on earth did you copy a first year's homework? Least of all your sister's. You think I wasn't going to find out?" He laughed at the boy, slinging the paper down on the desk, and sat down once more.

Crossing his long legs, he signalled for the boys to copy.

"Look, guys. I know it's weird, me being your teacher, when I was Al's childhood instigator of bullying and pain. Someone had to do it, you know? But seriously. Forget about it, and try getting to my lessons on time from now on. This is what I've wanted to do since I was about five, so just give me some slack? Please?" Teddy looked at the two boys, and they sighed.

"Yes, sir." They muttered, and dropped their heads.

"Good. Now get out of here, I need to call Victoire." He winked at them, and they abandoned the room as he threw floo powder into the fire.

Walking back to the common room, the boys wondered how far the relationship between Albus' cousin - or one of them, at least - and their teacher had actually gone.

"You know, I think they've definitely skipped all the bases and just gone for the home run. This is Victoire we're talking about here." Scorpius speculated, and Albus shook his head.

"Do you mind? Stuck up as she is, she is still my cousin, dude. Leave it off." He defended the part Veela girl, and Scorpius held his hands up in mock apology.

"Come on, let's get back. It's getting late now." Scorpius said, and the two clambered wearily down the staircase leading to the dungeons, and the common room.

"Parseltongue." Albus threw at the wall, and it split apart, revealing the somewhat gloomy interior of the low ceiling room. Throwing himself in an armchair, Scorpius sighed, eyeing the essays he had left upon the table with slight disdain.

"Do these teachers think we're all made of iron? How the hell are we supposed to get three essays done in a week?" He complained loudly, as someone sat themselves down in the seats beside them. Albus smiled, and greeted the newcomer.

"Hey Jordan. How you been?" He motioned to a graze on the boy's head, and he blushed, waving on hand in embarrassment.

"Had a bit of a run in with one of Hagrid's blasted Blast Ended Screwts. You'd think after so many accidents, they'd just remove them from the curriculum, wouldn't you?" He sighed, grabbing a sandwich from his bag.

"Had to run down to the hospital wing during dinner. Didn't have… thime… for anthy thood." He mumbled through a mouthful of cheese and bread, at which Albus turned away in disgust. The other boy grinned, showing a mouthful of pre-digested mush, and carried on.

"You're disgusting, Jord, you know that?" The boy laughed, swallowing his food hungrily. As he finished the sandwich, he smacked his lips, and threw the wrapper in the bin across the room.

"Apparently, I get it from my dad." He giggled, and Scorpius raised an eyebrow.

"Which one?" He sneered, and Jordan blushed, a bright red hue of humiliation.

Albus glared at Scorpius, and threw his history of magic book at him.

"Leave it, Scorpius. Jord, just ignore the twat." Scorpius opened his mouth, thought better of it, and went back to despairing over his potions essay. Albus rolled his eyes, and looked once more at Seamus Finnegan's son. The boy definitely had his looks, and, clearly, his pyromania. Shaking his head, he looked at his own potions essay, howled in the sudden feeling of being swamped, and faceplanted the table.


	2. A Melody Falls

"Oi, Albus! Wait for me!" Albus groaned as he heard his brother bounding up behind him, and he braced himself for the oncoming impact. Sure enough, not a moment later, a hundred and fifty pounds of brother landed on his back, clamping sweaty hands about his neck. The younger sibling whirled around, to see his brother land on the floor in a heap. Grinning up at him, James stood up, ruffling Albus' hair, laughing delightedly.

"Where you off to, bro?" The imp like face of James Potter was flushed, shining with a thin lining of sweat. The chestnut eyes he had inherited from him mother glittered, and Albus immediately guessed that the boy had just returned from Quidditch practice.

"The library." He replied, his tone moody. James rolled his eyes, and wrapped one arm loosely around his shoulders as they walked. Striding loudly along, he waved at several girls along the corridor, grinning that white toothed grin of his brightly. A gang of second year Ravenclaws swooned and giggled as he passed, and Albus shoved him off, annoyed.

"Dude, do you have to act like a complete show off every second of the day?" He growled, and James merely snorted in reply, briefly stopping to wink and hug his friend, Chelsea, before carrying on down the corridor.

"Have you ever considered getting out more Al? You know, actually trying to have a social life for once?" James teased, and Albus pushed forward through a crowd of boys waiting to enter their Defence class.

"I get out. I'm seeing Scorpius and Rose later. Going to see Hagrid's new phenomenon. Some weird multiple legged fiend he keeps raving about." He smarted as his brother blinked at him, before bursting out laughing.

"What happened to that Jasmine girl? You know, your _girlfriend_?" Albus flushed red, before breathing a sigh of relief. Coming from the opposite end of the hall, he saw Molly come out of a side door, and make a beeline towards them.

"Guys! Hey! Ohmygosh, James, do you have any idea how many people are looking for you right now?" She glared at the older boy, annoyed, and his eyes widened.

"W…why?" He looked at the girl, confused, and she rolled her eyes. Pointing in the direction of the Quidditch pitch, she raised her eyebrows pointedly, and he slapped a hand to his mouth.

"Shit, I completely forgot about Rudy. Seeya later bro!" He rushed off in the direction they had come, and Albus breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Molly, you just saved me from about two hours of painful flying lessons and a lot of earache about my apparently none-existent social life." He grinned, and she raised one thinly plucked eyebrow in answer.

"Wanna bet? Scorpius is looking for you." She shot back at him, and he groaned. Why was his idiot best friend looking for him now? A blown up potions essay gone wrong? His cat gone missing in the owlery again? Angry howler from his father wondering why he was associating so much with 'the boy'?

"Cheers." He sighed, and pulled his satchel higher onto his shoulder, turning on his heel back down the corridor.

"Don't you want to know where he is?" His cousin yelled after him, and he shook his head, pulling out a scrap of parchment from his robe pocket. Tapping the sheet of paper in the centre, he muttered;

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Immediately, a detailed map of the castle blossomed on the pages, its worn red ink showing the seemingly immortal Mrs Norris pacing the corridor to the left of him. Glancing down through a semi transparent tapestry, he could see her glowing yellow eyes glaring at him haughtily, and he hurried past, not wanting the aged caretaker to see the parchment in his grasp.

Scanning the page quickly, he soon located the young Malfoy, who could be seen stationary in his armchair by the Slytherin fire, and began to head off in that direction. As he walked, Albus glared at the floor, thumbing his sinuses impatiently. His headache was worsening, and he just wanted a lie down. A stampede of kids ran past him, the one in the lead contorting the air around him into streams of bubbles. Screeching excitedly, the children pelted past him, shoving his bag open. His books streamed to the floor, and he groaned.

"Be careful! Did no-one ever teach you freaking manners?" He hollered after them, but they were long gone. Sighing, he knelt to pick them up. Reaching out for his potions essay, another hand reached down before he had a chance to pick it up.

"Hey Al." Albus looked up to see Jordan standing there, his book in hand, his childish grin splitting across his face. There was a mark of soot on his nose where he had evidently been blowing things up, and half of his left eyebrow was slightly singed.

"Hi." Reaching for his book, he grabbed the rest of his things, before slinging his bag on his shoulder once more.

"Hey, Jordan. About the other day. I'm sorry about Scorpius; he's an asshole. He doesn't mean it, you know. He's just a bit of a dick sometimes." Albus frowned at the memory of his friend being so… unjust, and Jordan shrugged nonchalantly.

"No worries. I'm use to him, he's always been like that to me. So long as I don't care, then why should it matter? My dads would set him on fire with the flick of a wand anyway, so it's not like I feel threatened." He laughed, and Albus backed away, not sure if the boy was joking or not, smiling uncertainly. Raising his hands, Jordan shook his head.

"The chances are, it'd backfire and blow up in their faces anyway. Another thing I take after my dad, apparently…" Shaking his head, Albus tutted, and headed back in the direction of the common room, the other boy hot on his heels.

"Where you off to, anyway?" He asked, reminding Albus a little of a lost puppy, determined to get some form of attention. Waving his hand, he shook his head a little.

"Not entirely sure. Apparently Scorp needs to see me, though I have no idea why." As they turned a corner, Albus stopped dead, backing up a couple of steps, banging into Jordan in his startled state. The other boy yelped, rubbing his foot.

"What was that f-" Albus glared at him, putting a hand over Jordan's mouth, and the boy fell silent. Before them, they could see a sixth year boy they vaguely recognised cowering in a corner, his face white as snow. Before him knelt a figure, swathed in a black cloak, who was placing a small cauldron of a vivid red liquid on the floor. The boy was shaking violently, and as the figure moved away swiftly, blending easily into the shadows, he stood up, smearing his hand across his mouth. Left behind was a glistening drip of some silver, shimmering substance, and the boy's eyes were white, his pupils clouded by a fog.

The boy, who Albus could finally put a name to - Rory Corner - gripped the handle of the cauldron, and in one swift movement, had coated the wall behind him In red. The warm limestone wall was at once a picture of macabre destruction; the paint dripped to the floor, leaving paths of a crimson sheen in its wake. As the cauldron dropped to the floor, so did Roy. His body slumped, all defiance of will leaving him, and Albus rushed forward, Jordan not far behind.

His long blonde hair was seeped in sweat, and as Albus reached to feel for a pulse, he noted his skin was smouldering.

"Jordan, go and find a teacher. Any teacher, I don't care which. He needs help." He demanded, feeling strangely old, and his friend nodded, running off.

As Albus leant over Roy, trying to wake him up, merely to stifle his own fears if anything, his eyes opened wide.

The whiteness had been replaced by a sinister darkness, the crimson glow of the orbs causing Albus to leap back. Roy's mouth opened, and a rasping breath escaped from him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his fluttering heartbeat.

" _He will rise, once more, through sung through ashes. The one named for fear shall rise, and everything will fall in his wake. As the right of passage looms, the phoenix fire dulls, and no more shall be heard. He will rise, and all will fall. All will fall."_

Albus stared at the boy, his heart pounding. Behind him, he could hear people running, their footsteps loud, frantic. His ear-drums pounded, and the sounds reverberated around his skull, repeating themselves over and over. As Teddy Lupin reached him, Albus fell, darkness swallowing him whole as his head hit the flag stoned floor.


	3. A Different Tune

"Albus? Al? Hey, come on bro, wake up. I'm not the one telling mum you're dead." Albus groggily heard someone calling his name, and fuzzy images appeared above him, gradually sharpening until he could see his brother's long, pointed nose obscuring much of his vision. Groaning, he moved his head to the side.

"If it meant getting you out of my face, tell me where to find the reaper." He muttered, and James laughed delightedly, punching him more than lightly on the shoulder.

"You hear that guys? He's finally awake." Albus heard a chorus of voices from further away breathing sighs of relief, and he pulled himself up, his head swimming. He was in the hospital wing, a pressure bandage wound tightly around his head. Professor Lupin sat by his side, glaring from under his teal hair at the irritating Gryffindor.

"What the _hell_ happened?" He asked, his voice croaking slightly. James' eyes widened, and he reached for a glass of water for his younger sibling.

"You don't… you don't remember?" Was his answer, and Albus shook his head, immediately regretting it as the room began to spin. Scorpius snorted beside him, and threw a lump of chocolate at his friend.

"You just love finding the trouble, don't you? This is like first year, when you decided it'd be a brilliant idea to sneak to Hogsmeade, and the tunnel caved in on us." He sighed, and looked at the other side of the hall, where Madame Abbot was tending to another boy, who had not woken from what seemed to be a very deep slumber.

"Think, Al. What did you and Jordan see earlier? He's not talking, he's a bit… shocked." James looked at Rose, and she frowned, handing Albus something clear, and cold.

Unfurling his fingers, he saw a small vial resting in his palm, filled with a silvery substance, that glittered in the overhead lighting of the infirmary.

"This is unicorn blood, Albus. It has the power to grant immortality, and to heal. Unfortunately for the user, it hardly grants much of a life. The second this touches your lips, you lead a half life from then on. From that point, your life means practically nothing. That's what Roy drank. He's… well. It's difficult to say what's going to happen to him." She looked sad, and a flicker of understanding crossed Albus' mind.

The unicorn's blood, the paint on the wall. They reminded him of his father's stories, of the books he had read about his family's time at Hogwarts all those years ago. They reminded him of the things he used to have nightmares about when he was very young. He didn't truly understand that his parents were safe until he was much older. There were many nights where Ginny would have to come in with a cold flannel and butterbeer to calm him, but he never really slept well after that.

"I think… I think it's connected to my dad. Seriously guys, I remember some of it. Vaguely. It seems to be connected to my dad's past. You remember, his first year? With Voldemort after him, determined to become immortal? And second year, with that diary. When my mum… well. You know." James shuddered beside him, and the two siblings remembered their parents telling them of Ginny's control, and possession. That had been one of the worst stories.

"I don't have a clue what's happening. But it's weird, whatever it is." Albus muttered, frowning, and the others nodded in agreement.

"Well, it'll come to you eventually. In the mean time, are you okay to leave? I'm ready for a nap." James announced, and Albus summoned all of his strength to push his brother off the gurney.

Bong.

Bong.

BONG.

The clock tower outside woke Albus from a deep sleep, and he rolled over in his bed, back in his dormitory at last. The hangings to his four poster bed were not quite shut, and he could see the low window on the wall looking out onto the lake outside. The Slytherin dormitories did not offer much in the way of views, but the boys' rooms housed a row of small, circular windows on one of the walls. As he lay in bed, he saw a thick, tentacle-like movement swipe past the glass, and he shivered from the cold.

He shifted position to stare at the ceiling, not wanting to watch the giant squid consume its breakfast before he'd eaten his own, and tried to recapture a dream that he had lost.

_A flash of brilliantly orange light obscured his vision for a moment, then the scene settled. He was stood in a courtyard, filled with brilliant statues all around him. The grey work of the sculptures drew him closer, and as some writing filled his vision on one of them, he realised with a sick feeling that he wasn't in a courtyard after all._

" _Tom Riddle; 1905 - 1943"_

_He stared at the gravestone for what seemed like hours, taking in the knowledge of where, exactly, he was. Turning around, afraid, he saw now that he was not alone. What he had thought to be statues were in fact people; stood in long black cloaks, with masks covering their faces, they lifted their arms up, wands in hand, to shout their names over and over again, until all that Albus could hear was a mess of syllables and voices._

_On the stone of the ground, he heard something slither about behind him, and he turned back to the grave once more, to see a large snake, about as thick as his thigh, coiling itself around the gravestone, its mouth gaping open. Stumbling backwards, he fell into the centre of the circle, and the figures laughed, their voices high, and shrill. From the shadows stepped a taller man, with a pale face, and glowing, serpentine eyes._

" _A new foe, it seems. Tell me, boy. How is your father?" The man laughed, and stepped forward, and a flash of emerald shot from his wand;_

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Albus woke once more with a start, a thin layer of sweat covering his face and back. Sticking to the sheets of his bed, he stood wildly, heart hammering. Drawing his wand, he stood in the darkened room, turning this way and that. As somebody stepped into the room, he yelped, leaping forward in a show of mock bravery.

"Immobulus!" He called, and the figure before him let out a yelp.

Stepping forward, Albus muttered to himself;

"Lumos." The room lit up, and he grimaced as he saw Scorpius standing before him in the most ridiculous position imaginable. His eyes followed Albus as he reached for his wand once more, embarrassed, to release the curse.

"I'm ghunna gheeth myouh, Alghus." He growled through a frozen mouth, and Albus giggled nervously.

"Scorp. Can you not kill me when I release you? I didn't know who you were! I swear!" He pleaded, and the blond Malfoy glared at him from his frozen state. Sighing, the dark haired boy muttered the counter charm, and ducked before Scorpius leapt on him, punching him repeatedly.

"Why'd you go and do that asshole? I only went to fucking _pee_!" He yelled, and the other boys in the room woke from their beds, looking to see what was happening. Albus curled into a ball, yelling repeatedly.

"I thought you were someone else! Nightmare. I had a nightmare!" Scorpius relented slightly, sitting on his friend's stomach, holding his wand warily. Albus sighed with relief, and looked at his friend with pleading eyes.

"You had a nightmare?" Scorpius asked, looking unsure. Albus nodded, and struggled to sit up.

"It was him, Scorpius. Voldemort. He was in my dream. It was… it was weird." The other boys in the room looked at him, eyes wide. Jordan Finnegan stood from his bed, tripping over someone's dressing gown, and knelt beside the pair.

"Voldemort?" He muttered questioningly, and Albus nodded.

"It was weird guys. I'm scared." He frowned, thinking of the week's events, and the other boys nodded in agreement. With only an hour or so left before breakfast, the five Slytherin third years decided to simply get dressed and head to the common room. Once showered, Albus pulled his robes over his head, looking at the Slytherin crest emblazoned upon his tie. For not the first time in his life, he looked back at the day he had been sorted.

" _Hey!" A thin, blond boy looked at him from the crowd of first years standing in the ante-room to the great hall. He held out his hand for Albus to shake, and he took it nervously._

" _I'm Scorpius. What's your name?" He asked cheerfully, and Albus muttered his answer, his voice small and shaky. The blond looked at him, confused._

" _What's wrong?" He asked, and Albus shrugged._

" _Nothing. I'm fine." He took a breath, and it all came out._

" _I'm terrified. I don't want to go to Slytherin, and I'm really scared I'm going to end up there. My dad says not to worry, and that the sorting hat gives us a choice, and even if I do end up there, it's nothing to be ashamed of, and that my namesake was from there and he was a very brave man and that I shouldn't be worried but my brother's been teasing me all summer and I'm terrified and I_ really _don't want to end up Slytherin!" He yelled, and a few of his future classmates turned to stare. Awkwardly, Scorpius looped an arm around the taller boys shoulders, and led him away from the now curious crowd._

" _What's so bad about Slytherin? My whole family's from there; chances are, I'll be there too." He explained, and Albus frowned._

" _Well, it's where all the bad wizards go!" He argued, and Scorpius shook his head._

" _No, it's where all the cunning, ambitious people go. Okay, so they've turned out some bad eggs. But so have the others. Slytherin isn't so bad. I can't wait to get to that hat, I want to make my dad proud. Being in Slytherin is what being a Malfoy is all about!" He exclaimed, and Albus' eyes widened. This boy was a Malfoy? Scorpius noticed his shock, and he looked embarrassed._

" _Okay, so I know my family aren't famous for their kindness, but we're not all bad. I for one am a lot less… well. To put it bluntly, I'm not evil." He laughed, and Albus relaxed. Scorpius seemed okay. If he ended up in Slytherin… then so what?_

_A voice called from the doorway for them to enter, and the stream of first years pushed and shoved to get into the great hall. Last. Nobody wanted to be sorted, nobody was ready. Eleven years had passed all much too quickly. Scorpius, seeing the rest cower from the doors marched through them, and Albus, not wanting to get left behind by his only ally, followed. The two of them entered the hall to cheers, with the rest of them finally following, and they grouped up around the steps that led to a battered, moth eaten old hat._

" _When I call your name, you will walk up the steps and place the hat on your head. When your house has been called, please join your classmates as quickly as possible." The teacher told them, who had previously introduced himself as Professor Thomas._

" _Abbot, Lucy"_

_A small, scared looking girl climbed the steps, and sheepishly pulled the hat over her eyes, which fell to her nose._

" _Hufflepuff!" It yelled without pause, and the girl breathed a sigh of relief, shakily getting down from the stool and practically running to the table._

_Bones, Joseph went to Ravenclaw, followed by more students; Finnegan, Jordan was the first to get sorted into Slytherin, closely followed by Bulstrode, Hannah. Green, Tegan ended up skipping over to Gryffindor with a look of triumph on her face, and finally, Malfoy Scorpius, after much inner debate, ended up, of course, in Slytherin. A few more names were called, until it was Albus' turn._

_Tripping over the steps slightly, he arrived at the stool. Placing the hat on his head, it slipped down slightly._

" _Oh, interesting. Another Potter. Yes. Definitely interesting. Long ago, I gave your father a choice. To join greatness, to join the ranks of the ambitious. But he chose not, as did your brother. Yes, I gave your brother the choice. Did you not know? Well. I think… yes. You are just listening. You aren't going to try and make a choice are you? No, I didn't think so. In that case…. It'll be…._

_SLYTHERIN!" The hat yelled, and a cry from the Gryffindor table showed his brother standing, looking disgruntled. Ducking his head, Albus ran to the Slytherin table, to sit himself down between Scorpius and the boy named Jordan._

_Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all._


	4. A Struck Chord

"Hey, Al. Chuck us my tie would you?" Scorpius called from across the dorm, and Albus glared at him. Did the twit not have a perfectly good pair of legs? Reluctantly, he hurled the strip of green and silver at the idiot, and Scorpius caught it behind him, turning to grin at him.

"Scorp, much as I hate to say it, why don't you just apply for the Quidditch tryouts this year? Seriously, we need a few good chasers. Have you seen how bad we've gotten? Someone needs to teach my idiot brother a lesson." Albus whined, and Scorpius rolled his eyes, fastening the ties of his cloak.

"Because, dearest friend, I have the biggest stage fright known wizard-kind, and would make the biggest fool of myself." He paused, pondering.

"Plus, I don't want to give you the satisfaction of being able to sit in the stands laughing at me." Albus sighed, seizing his own tie from his bedside table. He would never convince the boy to conquer his pride, never. Shame though, he really would have been good on the team. Unlike himself, who possessed all the hand-eye coordination of a very drunk, very comatose sloth. He chuckled at the thought, and Scorpius raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"Not that we need the Quidditch pitch for that, it seems." He smirked, and walked out of the dorm, his uniform pristine. Albus groaned, throwing himself back on his bed. He really wasn't in the mood for lessons today. A nice stroll around the lake, was the more desired activity, if you asked Albus. He would probably even take Quidditch with James over that day's lessons.

Dragging himself from the entangled blankets, he finished dressing, slinging his cloak over his shoulder in the unusual November heat. He thought back to the day previous, when he had gone to tell Lupin of his dreams. The useless man had just thrown him a lump of Honeydukes' half price chocolate, and told him to quit worrying. Brilliant tutoring, thought Albus. Really blood brilliant.

He kicked out at a chair in the common room as he walked out, and a portrait to the northern side of the room grumbled at him and his bad attitude. Rolling his eyes, Albus practically threw himself from the room, swearing at the portrait as he exited.

Clenching his eyes shut in the outside corridor, he clenched a finger to the bridge of his nose. What was wrong with him today? He was never normally one to anger so quickly, nor to yell unnecessarily at anyone, not even a charmed picture. Sighing again, he threaded his way through a gaggle of ghosts stood near the entrance hall.

"I say, now, we really must do something about him, Friar. He nearly beheaded me the other day!" Muttered one of the ghosts, and a portlier man to his side merely looked at him, seemingly somewhat astounded.

"I agree, Nicholas, but… did it really make much difference?" He muttered, and the ghost named Nicholas glared at him, before melting against the wall until he disappeared. As the other ghosts dispersed, he saw a girl a little taller than his own height pushing someone against a wall, fist drawn back threateningly. He heard her mutter something, seemingly a spell, and someone cried out on the other side of her.

Not really feeling up to heroism, but knowing he had to do something, Albus coughed nonchalantly, causing the girl to spin on her heel. Hannah Bulstrode stood before him, her slightly troll-like appearance blemished with fury at being interrupted.

"Got a problem, asshole?" She spat, and he shook her head nervously.

"N… no, Hannah. Not at all." How had her mother bred? He had seen pictures. He had then longed for a spell for the removal of horrendous mental images. As he grimaced, he looked to the wall, to immediately recognise Hannah's planned victim. Now it was personal.

"Rose!" He called out, rushing to her. As he passed Bulstrode, she flung out a tripping charm and he went headfirst into a suit of armour, the metal clanging loudly on the stone floor as it landed on top of him. He heard the girl laugh nastily, as she once again turned her wand on Albus' cousin.

"Now, Weasley, I think there's the clearing up of the matter we discussed?" She sneered, and Albus heard his cousin whimper. Trying to move, he found the statue to be lying directly on top of his stomach, pinning him painfully to the ground. Mentally, he scanned through the list of all the spells he knew, trying to think of something to get the weight off of him.

"Depulso!" He whispered, and the suit of arms was immediately thrown away from him, only to reappear several meters away, on the opposite wall.

"Expelliarmus!" He cried out at Bulstrode, and her wand flew threw the air to land in his hand. Sending warning sparks from his wand, he advanced on the girl, determined to teach her that size isn't everything in combat. Her nostrils flared, and she braced herself. Not being the brightest witch in the school, she often thought fights had to remain physical, often forgetting about the existence of her wand.

"Everte statum!" He yelled finally, and Bulstrode froze up in shock, to then fall backwards, as if in slow motion. Exactly the reaction he expected from someone who had effectively been hit by a truck. Rushing forward, Albus grabbed his cousin's hand.

"Let's get out of here before she gets up." He said, throwing Bulstrode's wand to the ground, and the redheaded girl nodded, sniffling miserably as they ran in the direction of Potions hastily. Her face was red, and her hair was frizzing madly behind her, from what Albus guessed to be humiliation.

They both crashed into Potions at the same time, and the extremely aged Slughorn looked up from some notes he had been dictating to the class.

"A little late, aren't we?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting for some amazing excuse for their lateness. Rose sniffed again, looking humbly at the floor, as if wishing for it to open and take her.

"I'm sorry, sir. I had to help Rose… er…" His cousin looked up at him pleadingly, shaking her head ever so slightly. He sighed, nodding wearily.

"She was helping me sir. I hadn't quite finished your essay." He falsely admitted, and the balding professor smiled at him.

"Why didn't you say so, m'boy? Anybody that eager to please is of course to be let off. Yes, yes, take your seats." He beamed at Albus, and ushered them to their seats. Slumping beside Scorpius, who had arrived far before him, his friend looked at him questioningly, obviously not believing Albus' story. Who would, when he had seen it completed the other night? He shook his head, pointing at Rose inconspicuously, as she sat down beside her friend near the front of the room.

"I'll tell you later, she's a bit… fragile." He explained, and Scorpius nodded, turning his attention to a graze on Albus' right arm. He looked down, to see his skin split and bleeding. Feeling nauseous, he pulled his sleeve down.

"Had a bit of a run in with the floor." He muttered, and his friend chuckled under his breath, scribbling distractedly on his notes.

"You wanna skip lessons later? I'm really not in the mood for handling more Blast Ended Screwts." Scorpius grimaced. Hagrid had unfortunately remembered an assignment from many years ago, when their parents were still at Hogwarts, in which they had to bring up a Screwt from birth. His was currently two feet long, and threatening to bite his arm off every day.

Albus agreed, wincing at the memory of when his own had latched onto his foot a few weeks ago, determined to gnaw of a few toes before it was kicked to high heaven across the Hippogriff courts.

"Boys, listen! If you get this potion wrong, you will end up bright pink and scaly!"

Scorpius Malfoy regarded himself in the mirror after potions, scratching at a patch of barely noticeable scales below his right ear. Despite its inconspicuousness, he still didn't like knowing it was there, and spent the best part of half an hour fiddling with his chin length blonde hair to hide it.

"I told you we should have put more mandrake juice in the damn potion!" He called out to the room behind him, where Albus was having a much worse time, and had borrowed Rose's concealing paste to hide the bright pink hue his skin had currently taken.

"Yeah, whatever Scorp." His friend muttered, and Scorpius grinned, glad that he had come off the better of their little experiment. Glancing at Albus sat on the bed, grimacing at his reflection in a hand mirror, he watched the transformation from humiliated marshmallow to smooth normality. He had to hand it to Albus, he was pretty adept with his cousin's makeup. He'd have to remember that one for future taunting, he thought to himself, chuckling slightly.

"You know it sounds incredibly ominous when you do that, right? Start laughing for no reason?" Albus regarded him warily, and Scorpius smiled innocently.

"I haven't the faintest clue of what you're talking about, dearest!" He flashed an innocent face at the middle Potter, and Albus sighed, exasperated.

"So what happened with you and Rose earlier?" Scorpius asked curiously, at last. He had been itching to find out since the pair had stormed into the lesson earlier, Rose embarrassed and Albus an odd mix of furious and victorious. As Albus conveyed what had happened, Scorpius felt himself grow steadily furious with Bulstrode. That horrible banshee. He'd have payback, for sure.

"Any news on Corner? Have you remembered anything yet?" He suddenly remembered the sixth year in the infirmary. The last time he'd seen him, he'd been white a sheet, staring up at the ceiling and muttering in what could be tongues for all Scorpius knew.

Albus shook his head, looking disappointed with himself. Scorpius went to sit beside him, placing an arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay, I'm sure you'll remember eventually." For a Malfoy, Scorpius could be pretty kind when it came down to it. Hugging his friend tightly, he felt the familiar pang, and moved out of the room, determined to go drown his sorrows in a glass of… pumpkin juice. Curse being underage, was his only sentiment to that.


	5. A Slytherin's Lament

"Scorp, remind me again why we took bloody _divination_." Albus hissed, and Scorpius found himself wondering the same thing, certainly disgruntled at the turn the last lesson had taken. Yet another one of loopy Trelawney's "prophecies" had announced itself in the middle of class, announcing that Albus was going to die at precisely four minutes past three in the afternoon. Yesterday. Shaking his head, Scorpius shrugged, practically leaping over the last few steps at the bottom of the spiral staircase. He had been in a bad mood all day, and still could not place a finger on the reason why.

The dark haired boy overtook him, skipping down the hall happily in his freedom, nearly starting a conga line with a small gang of giggling second year girls. Scorpius glared at the girls before catching up to his friend.

Looking at Albus' gleeful lack of composure, Scorpius wondered for the millionth time just _how_ the middle Potter had ended up in Slytherin. He possessed neither slyness, nor cunning. He supposed he could call the brunette ambitious, but still. In his own opinion, he had eventually surmised that the hat had merely placed him in Slytherin in bitter victory after being able to persuade neither his father, nor irritating older brother. The pattern had continued to abandon Gryffindor as the favoured Potter house through Lily's sorting, as the youngest Potter had been sorted, finally, into Ravenclaw.

Shaken from his thoughts, he looked up to find Albus grabbing at his shoulder, grinning.

"Where are you today, dude? C'mon, let's go see Hagrid." He smiled, and jauntily wandered off, suddenly without a care in the world. Growling under his breath, Scorpius followed. Something was off here, it had to be. Shaking the feelings, he plastered his signature sneer to his face, and walked down the halls, eyes glinting at people he disliked.

Despite being considerably more tolerable than he predecessors, especially his father, Scorpius could still shoot someone down with a look from thirty metres if he had to. It wasn't that he was naturally cruel, he just didn't particularly like people much. There were a select few he could tolerate, Albus and his relatives mainly, but everyone else seemed to just rub him up the wrong way.

Grimacing, he ducked through a pillared archway after Albus, and began jogging to catch up with him. The twit was in far too much of a good mood today, Scorpius decided. As they neared the ramshackle hut at the perimeter of the forest, a towering figure exited from the door, and Scorpius heard a yell as Albus barrelled into it, laughing as he did.

"Albus! 'Ow're ya bin doin'?" Hagrid rumbled, and Scorpius rolled his eyes, bringing up the rear sullenly. Hagrid glanced at him, seeing his scowl immediately.

"'Sup wi' you, Malfoy?" He laughed, and Scorpius couldn't help crack a grin. Ever since first year, Scorpius had prickled when teachers called him by his first name, and had made every effort to inform them all of this. Since then, the only teacher that ever dared to call him Scorpius was Lupin, and this was purely to irritate him.

"Oh, just death, doom and destruction that appears to be about to befall us lately." He muttered, and Hagrid laughed loudly, causing a barrage of birds to alight from a nearby tree, screeching angrily at being disturbed.

"Always the joker, eh Malfoy?" He chuckled, before leading them inside the hut.

"Got some'in' brilliant to show ya today boys. Ya both'll love it!" He exclaimed, and Scorpius groaned.

* * *

Later that evening, Scorpius was curled up by the fire, nursing a decidedly painful wrist that had burst out in a group of nasty looking purple welts.

"Remind me never to go to Hagrid's with you again, Al. Seriously." He spat, rueing the day he had allowed the half giant to place the monstrous prickly demon in his hands. God knows what it had been; some strange abnormality Hagrid had created from breeding a Screwt and a Flobberworm. Its two inch spines had not in any way been welcome though when it had apparently not liked anything about Scorpius. Wincing, he glared at the dark haired boy, and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh live with it. Besides, it makes up for you getting hit by the kinder side of the potion the other day." There was still a faint pink colour to Albus' cheeks, giving him a perpetual blush, and Scorpius sighed in defeat.

The pair fell into silence as Albus pulled out his defence homework, and began to scratch at his temples within minutes, confused over the differences between werewolves and animagus, apparently. Scorpius merely sat, staring into the fire drearily. The day had been strange, he decided.

He turned to the side, watching his friend with a look of sadness on his narrow features. He closed his eyes, clenching them to block out the images, frustrated.

_Scorpius was stood before a thick, tall pair of wooden doors, through which he could hear the clammer of hundreds of Hogwarts students waiting impatiently for them to appear. The people around him jostled his sides, causing him to stumble slightly. Glaring at a red, frizzy haired witch, he pushed passed to find a quiet spot to the side of the crowd. As he stood watching perceptively, he saw a boy a little taller than he stood to the edge of the group, looking faintly ill. He had tousled dark hair that looked like it had never been brushed, that fell into brilliantly blue eyes. The shining watery orbs aided his look of sickness in no way at all, and the boy looked positively like he was going to faint._

_Saving him from whatever thoughts, Scorpius marched up to him, determined to appear better than the mundane gaggle around him. He was a_ Malfoy _of course. He had to always stand out._

" _Hey!" He called to the boy, waking him from whatever thoughts were making him look so intensely terrified. He stood out a pale hand as his father had taught him, and the boy took it, looking unsure._

" _I'm Scorpius. What's your name?" Scorpius asked, determined to draw this fragile looking boy out of his shell. He was reminded of someone else, by his face, but he couldn't put a name to it just yet. He had a rather interesting face. It was both pinched and well fed at the same time. His skin was pale, half hidden by the nest of dark curls that fell into his eyes. His moderately thin lips were down-turned more than Scorpius thought possible, and he felt his Malfoy heart go out strangely to him._

" _Albus Potter." The boy mumbled quietly, and Scorpius opened his eyes wide. So this was what he reminded him of. His father had told him many stories of "Saint Potter", Albus' father. Although many of them were mocking, almost disgusted, many were of Harry Potter's bravery when his father was young. Although Draco did not like the man, it seemed that he respected him a great deal._

_Albus still looked nauseous, and Scorpius asked what was wrong, feeling rather like a martyr as the boy shook his head, mumbling a faint "nothing"._

_Then, the boy took a deep breath, and a hysterical rant escaped him, almost too quick for Scorpius to hear. He vaguely deduced, however, that Albus did not in any way want to go into Slytherin. He narrowed his eyes. What was wrong with Slytherin? This was now personal. As a number of the gaggle around them turned to stare, Scorpius hurriedly reached out to Potter, placing an arm around his shoulder in a protective way that most people would think kind. Scorpius had other ideas. The possessiveness he was attempting to assume almost melted, however, as he touched the boy. He was warm, too warm, and he stepped away from the other children, letting go of Albus, almost reluctantly._

_"What's so bad about Slytherin? My whole family's from there; chances are, I'll be there too." He told him, feeling almost regretful at the bitterness in his voice. There was nothing wrong with Slytherin, he told himself. He had to go there!_

" _Well, it's where all the bad wizards go!" Albus told him, and Scorpius shook his head in protest, telling himself as well as Albus that it wasn't true in anyway, and that all of the four houses had something to answer for in the end._

" _Being in Slytherin is what being a Malfoy is all about!" He finished, and he saw Albus go white with shock. Why were people so obvious around him? Inwardly, he sighed, determined to prove Albus wrong._

" _I'm not evil!" He exclaimed a little too loudly for his own liking. Collecting his thoughts, he brought himself to full height, wanting to look proud. As he began to explain how he felt, a male voice from the fore of the group called to them, telling them to enter the hall. As he watched the gaggle reluctantly shift towards the door, he shook his head._ He _was the proud one! Marching ahead, he barged past the group, determined to show what he was made of. As he reached the door, he paused, looking back at Albus. Beckoning his new - friend? - with his eyes, the younger Potter followed obediently, and Scorpius smiled. Not a sly, cunning smile, but a genuine Scorpius-not-Malfoy smile, and he felt his stomach flutter slightly._

_On the other side of the doors, he was welcomed by the sight of the rest of the school, cheering for them. No, he told himself. Cheering for him! As Albus drew up beside him, looking equally as proud suddenly, Scorpius corrected himself. Him, and Albus. His new friend, Albus Potter, son of his father's nemesis._

_When he was finally called forward to be sorted, he placed the hat slowly on his head, scared, although he dared not admit it._

" _Ah. A Malfoy. I know just where to put y- wait. No. You're not like the others. You are purer. Less like them. I sense bravery. Pride. Loyalty. I sense you have a mind, boy. Where to put…" The hat was muttering in his ear, and Scorpius blanched. No! Slytherin was where he belonged. Slytherin, Slytherin…_

" _You don't agree with me? You want to go to Slytherin? Well, I suppose it has lost its essence of darkness over the years. Yes, I suppose you're right. Well, in that case, it'll have to be…._

_SLYTHERIN!" Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief, and although he wanted to sprint to the table and just sit with his head down, he forced himself to walk slowly, swaggering his hips in determination to appear proud. Finally, he was seated to watch Albus get sorted. Crossing his fingers under the table, he clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the hat to shout Gryffindor. But it never did._

" _SLYTHERIN!" Albus was sorted with him, and to a hoard of shouts, his friend sat beside him and another boy, who was slight and mousy. Albus smiled at the boy as he sat down, before turning his attention to Scorpius once more, grinning. Scorpius looked at the other boy, glaring._

_He didn't like him already._


	6. A Seer's Echo

"Scorpius!" A voice called down the corridor, and the blond boy spun on his heel to raise a single eyebrow at the girl rushing up to him. She wore her midnight dark hair in a plait down her back, her fringe falling into her eyes. He sighed, and paused outside the door to his Arithmancy class, one hand placed already upon the wooden panels. She skittered to a halt before him, drawing a breath, rasping.

"Have you seen Albus? I've been trying to get him to talk to me for days, but he's just been ignoring me. It's like I've dropped off the face of the earth to him." She sounded concerned, Scorpius remarked inwardly. Jasmine Patil was fairly good looking, he had noted a long time ago, but he could see no reason why his friend had marked her as the one to chase around school, carrying her books like a slave. She prattled incessantly, and held no mark of particular intelligence. Sorted into Gryffindor as her mother had been, she had been the one to confess her feelings to Albus, producing a grinning, bright red beetroot of a stammering Potter. Scorpius sniggered at the memory, and realised that Jasmine was still waiting patiently for an answer.

"Not today I haven't. He's been sick this morning, decided not to come to today's lessons." He told her, and she sighed, all life seeming to droop slightly. Thanking him, she walked on to find her own classroom desolately. Grinning, Scorpius finally entered the room to Arithmancy, creeping into the back row as the teacher's back was turned.

"Why are you so late?" Albus hissed from his seat, half a page of notes scrawled in his untidy hand writing already, and Scorpius shrugged.

"I guess I just got up a little late this morning." Seemed feasible. Albus rolled his eyes, and went back to writing. Scorpius frowned; the boy looked pallid, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. As Albus wrote, his hands shook, making his handwriting even more untidy than it normally was. Curious, Scorpius reached over to place a slender finger on his friend's forehead. Before Albus leapt a mile, it became obvious that he was burning up.

"Come on. Now. You're coming to the hospital wing." Scorpius hissed, thrusting a hand into the air.

"I need to take Albus to Madame Abbot. He isn't well." The teacher briefly looked up, glancing, bored at the brunette. Nodding distractedly, he turned back to the blackboard, and a compliant Albus was led out of the door, tripping slightly over his own feet at the threshold to the corridor. Scorpius sighed, throwing the boy's arm around his shoulder as he took his weight. How had he gotten so ill, so quickly? He hoped he hadn't tempted fate with his lie to Jasmine. Shrugging it off, he struggled down the halls, stumbling under Albus' torso. How could somebody so slender feel so heavy?

As they neared the hospital wing, Albus' eyes shuttered shut, and he slumped suddenly to the floor, a dead weight. Alarmed, Scorpius began to call out to anybody who could hear, feeling scared as he watched Albus convulse upon the cold stone of the floor. Madame Abbot appeared at the entrance to the wing, and as her eyes fell upon the fallen Slytherin, her mouth opened in shock. Calling out to a helper, she rushed forward, confused eyes glancing at Scorpius questioningly.

"He just suddenly… I don't know!" She shook her head at his incoherent speech, and a muttered spell lifted Albus lightly into the air, where he lay as if on a bed.

"Mr Malfoy, has he remembered anything from the other day yet?" Madame Abbot looked at Scorpius, worried, and he shook his head, disappointed.

"No, at least, not that he's told me. There's something going on here, Madame Abbot. I'm sure of it. Things haven't been right all week." He answered her, and she nodded, turning towards the hospital wing. He started after her, but she waved him away, casting a warning glance back at him. He felt a weight settle between his shoulder blades, and he dejectedly walked back in the direction of Arithmancy, really not feeling particularly up to the equations and algebra of the lesson.

As he passed the steps down to the common room, he shrugged, and turned down them. What use would he be in Arithmancy anyway? He would just be worrying about Albus for the entirety of the lesson.

Muttering the password, he dragged himself into the common room, only to come face to face with Jordan Finnegan.

"Out of my way, twat." He growled, glaring at the boy angrily. Jordan's eyes narrowed, as he brought himself to full height before the blond Slytherin. Refusing to move, he crossed his arms, his hazel eyes full of warning.

"What is your problem, Malfoy? I mean, seriously. You've hated me from the day you set eyes on me." The usually soft spoken boy hissed angrily, and Scorpius saw a hundred reasons float, almost lazily across his mind.

"Finnegan, I'm so not in the mood for this right now. Okay, just back off." He sneered, not willing to repeat any of his reasoning aloud. The mousy haired boy glared momentarily once more, before giving in. As he stepped past Scorpius, he looked him up and down.

"You know, you make out to be oh-so-superior, Malfoy. You act like I disgust you. But I know how you really feel. You'd better think about that, before you start acting like you're better than me again." Finnegan mirrored Scorpius' signature smirk, and drifted out of the room, humming the Slytherin Quidditch chant. Scorpius' blood ran cold as he stared after the boy, looking down at his own clenched hands. Growling under his breath, he headed off in the direction of his rooms, repeating the other boy's threat under his breath.

He could see now why Finnegan had been sorted into Slytherin, and not Gryffindor like his fathers. Fathers.

Jealousy gripped him angrily, and he pushed through the doors, trying to ignore the familiar feelings. This was beginning to get ridiculous. Slumping back on his bed, not caring that his robes were undoubtedly creasing beneath him, he thought back to the years before.

First year, when his original decision to be friends with the infamous Albus Potter had spiralled into something more; he had developed what many would call - feelings, he inwardly shuddered - and he had then realised why he had constantly thought himself different to the children surrounding him throughout his days. He had always been somewhat intellectually advanced, although he normally just blamed this on his growing up as a Malfoy. Not to do with being… an outsider.

Second year, when he had taken to glaring disdainfully at Albus' many childhood conquests; Rita Jordan, Therasa Trillegory, Hetty Bones, Sasha Chin, and finally, Jasmine Patil. He knew he was being unreasonable; his possessiveness scared even him, sometimes. His best friend had taken to dipping in to his free time normally left for Scorpius to escort the girls to various places, using his brother's invisibility cloak to escort them on adventurous trips to Madam Puddifoot's, and Zonko's. Scorpius had always been left to entertain himself in the Slytherin common room, occasionally visiting numerous teachers to calm an overexcited Rose, who was often terrified she had dropped marks on some essay or other.

Sighing, he turned over on his stomach, searching in his bedside drawer for something to entertain him. Third year; this year had so far been the most uncomfortable for him. He had been terrified of so much as touching his friend, for fear of Albus seeing his pale composure flush pink with embarrassment. That was what it was, Scorpius always told himself. Embarrassment. Grumbling to himself, he rolled over again, and decided it may be a better idea to simply sleep.

* * *

"Mr Malfoy." Somebody was shaking him awake with a long, spindly hand and he started, throwing himself forward to grab whoever it was disturbing him. His eyes focused, and he nearly yelped as he found himself staring into the lamp-eyes of a curious looking house elf. The elf's ears drooped forward as his bowed to the Slytherin, and Scorpius rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Yes?" He asked warily, and the elf bowed again, staring at him avidly still, eyes unabashed.

"Mr Malfoy is requested to follow Trelby, sir, if Mr Malfoy would be please follow Trelby, sir." Scorpius nodded, shushing the house elf. The reverent way in which it spoke annoyed him, and he pulled his shoes on quickly, having fallen asleep in his robes. Following the house elf through the common room, he slipped out of the entrance quietly, not wanting to awaken the fifth year prefect who was slumped over her textbook near the fire, clearly having fallen asleep whilst attempting to study. The house elf led him through the castle, and, as he had previously assumed, towards the hospital wing. Scorpius felt himself growing steadily more anxious, wringing his hands nervously beneath his robes.

As the doors to the wing opened for them to pass, he started as he saw Jordan Finnegan standing over Albus' bed, staring unabatedly at the now awake boy, who was slumped against his pillows, a look of exhaustion written upon his face. Scorpius crossed the room quickly, pushing Finnegan out of the way promptly before settling himself into the seat by his friend's side. James Potter was sitting across from him, his forehead creased with concentration.

As Albus opened his mouth, the doors swung open once more, and Scorpius looked up to see Madam Abbot standing between Harry and Ginny Potter, who looked every part of angry and terrified that they could.

"Albus!" His mother cried, falling beside her son; Scorpius moved to the side to allow her space to hug and mollycoddle her son, and Mr Potter stood at the end of the bed, his arms crossed tightly to his side. He glanced briefly at Scorpius, a look of recognition flashing across his face.

"I remembered, Scorpius." Albus motioned to him, and he moved closer, eyes widening.

"I remembered what happened. Corner - Roy - he said… I'm not sure, really, what happened. His mother, you see, was a prophet. She… she made a prophecy, I think." He stammered, afraid, and Scorpius frowned. A seer? A seer amongst the Hogwarts students? They were very rare. Very rare indeed.

" _He will rise, once more, through sung through ashes. The one named for fear shall rise, and everything will fall in his wake. As the right of passage looms, the phoenix fire dulls, and no more shall be heard. He will rise, and all will fall. All will fall."_

Albus gripped his mother's hand, his face white with fear. Scorpius felt the blood drain from his face, his own visage probably matching that of his friend.

They would all fall.


	7. A Prophecy Noted

Albus sat staring at the opposite wall of the hospital wing. Madame Abbot had not allowed him to leave the ward until she was sure he had thoroughly recovered from his exhaustion. Despite that, Albus was sure he was well enough to high tail out of there, and curl up in his own bed in the Slytherin dormitories. He would have left already, had it not been for the fact that the hospital doors had been instructed not to open for him, and that he had given James back his invisibility cloak only three days ago. Cursing his idiocy, he slumped back in the uncomfortable gurney, literally twiddling his thumbs with boredom. Despite his so-called exhaustion, he had been unable to rest all night, tossing and turning restlessly every five minutes. Huffing loudly at his enforced imprisonment, he sat up awkwardly, rubbing his chest as he did so. Whatever illness had swooped down on him earlier had left him with a dull ache everywhere, his chest and shoulders feeling like he had gone several rounds with a hippogriff. Blindfolded.

Sighing, he closed his eyes wearily, his thoughts returning for possibly the hundredth time to the "prophecy" that he had been witness to. How he had forgotten that for five days, he wasn't entirely sure. Sung through ashes? What in Merlin's name was that even supposed to mean? And no phoenix had resided in Hogwarts since the days of the war, when Fawkes, Albus Dumbledore's old bird had died, gone up in one final burst of magical smoke. Exasperated, he reached for a glass of water, nearly jumping from his skin as his hand collided with someone else's. The almost ethereal fingers gripped his glass steadily, seemingly unattached to anything, and Albus rolled his eyes.

"Scorp! What are you _doing_ here? And what are you doing with my brother's cloak?" He glared at the patch of air where he knew the blond head would normally be, and the boy revealed himself in a flourish, grinning mischievously. Handing Albus a box of chocolate frogs, he sat himself down in the chair beside his bed, placing a slender finger to his lips before casting a _muffliato_ charm around them.

"Thought you'd need some company, you looked fed up earlier." Scorpius informed him, reaching to the box Albus had just opened and selecting a particularly docile looking frog. It croaked once, looking balefully at the Slytherin, before he bit off the head hungrily. Albus himself placed the box on the bedside stand, paling at the sight of food.

"Scorp, I'm afraid." He muttered, and his friend frowned, before squeezing his hand almost too carefully. Albus felt himself inwardly blush, and he pulled his hand away gently.

"It'll be okay. The teachers will undoubtedly put their knowledge to good use, Al." He reassured him, and Albus raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"'Course, you know that means we're going to have to do our own investigating. Leaving it to the teachers will mean we shall all be dead by Christmas." He joked, and Albus grinned despite himself. Trust Scorpius to joke about death and destruction. Albus found himself tracing the outline of his friend's face as he chose the next victim from the box of quietly croaking chocolates. He had to admit, Scorpius was handsome enough, with his messy blond fringe falling in his eyes all the time, those cold, grey eyes that could light up at any random moment. Although, having thought that, Albus realised with a jolt, he had rarely truly smiled lately; his eyes had kept their look of icy, unwavering contempt. He could swear that the boy had taken to disgruntled sneering at every other opportunity in the last few months. Sighing, Albus grabbed a frog out of thanks for his friend, and wondered what had gotten into the boy. Probably some mystery girl causing him to lash out at so much as the ghosts, he supposed. Not that he had ever seen Scorpius talking to any girl, with the exception of Albus' younger sister and cousins.

Albus stiffened as he heard the door to the hospital wing's office open suddenly. Startled, Scorpius reached for the invisibility cloak from the bed wildly, accidentally grabbing Albus' leg in the process. Disgruntled, Scorpius dropped the cloak, and Madame Abbot spun on her heel at the sound, obviously in the process of administering another student's early morning medicine. Startled, she sharply walked up to them, hissing under her breath, not wanting to disturb the other students.

"Mr Malfoy, I suggest you leave, now, before I contact your head of house. I'm certain Professor Slughorn would not appreciate the news of one of his best students going walkabout in the middle of the night." She glared at him, as if warning him not to answer back, and Scorpius nodded hastily, gathering up the fallen cloak behind him inconspicuously.

"Yes, Madam Abbot. I apologise, I merely thought Albus might be a little bored here, alone. He suffers often from the effects of Insomnia." He cast a look to Albus, and he stayed silent, merely looking at his hands as if they were suddenly the most interesting things in the world.

"Yes, well, Mr Malfoy. I'm sure I can find some potion to assist Mr Potter in his sleeping. In the meantime, please leave the ward now. I shall not punish you this time, as I am sure somebody will spot you on your way back to the Slytherin common room. Good luck, Mr Malfoy." She hissed, angry now that her ward's peace had been disturbed so early in the morning, and Scorpius left the hospital wing in a hurry, casting a regretful look back at Albus as he slipped out of the door.

Albus sighed, throwing his head back on the pillow, as Madame Abbot shot him a look. She bustled back to the boy opposite, before disappearing into her office. A moment later, she reappeared, holding a beaker of some revolting looking substance, clearly intended to throw him into a deep, dreamless sleep. Sighing, he threw the potion back down his throat, feeling it burn down to his stomach, and fell into blackness.

* * *

"You're free to leave, Mr Potter." Albus opened his eyes, disorientated, as the matron shook his arm to wake him. Pushing himself up, he felt his vision blur; the potion had left him with a feeling of being slightly drunk, and it took him a moment to focus properly. The woman stared at him sharply, clearly wanting the middle Potter out of the room as soon as possible. She thrust his robes towards him, which had been freshly cleaned and pressed overnight, and marched back to the office, slamming her door. A few people on the opposite wall looked out from their beds at the noise, groaning lethargically. Did the woman just drug them all up for a quiet night's sleep? Albus snorted, and grabbed the curtains shut around him, before tripping into his clothes. Grabbing the half empty box of now stationary chocolate frogs, he practically skipped to the doors, glad to finally be free, and jogged all the way to the common room, wincing at the pain of his abdomen and shoulders with every step.

Finally, he arrived at the dungeon entrance, muttering the password, agitated. Much to his surprise, they didn't open, and he stared blankly at the wall in disbelief. The password had changed overnight! Groaning, he banged his head against the brickwork in frustration, welcoming the cold hardness of the stone. Slumping to the floor, he resigned himself to the wait before another student came along, cursing himself and Madame Abbot for refraining to mention the password change.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably merely minutes - he had been too tired to cast a Tempus charm - Jordan appeared around the corner, whistling cheerfully, part of his face coated in a fine layer of soot. At the sight of Albus sat on the floor, legs stretched out, his feet pressed against the opposite floor, he started. Stepping over the boy's legs, he chuckled under his breath.

"Forgot the password, Al?" He asked, sneering in a highly un-Jordan-ish way, and Albus glared at him.

"Yes, clearly. Now quit goofing around, and tell me what it is." He said, standing up and rubbing his legs, wincing. As he turned to Jordan, he was startled as the boy slammed him against the wall roughly.

"What's it worth?" He sneered in his face, and Albus staggered, eyes wide, as the boy breathed in his face mockingly. Albus stammered, reaching for his wand in his robes. Damn, he thought. It wasn't there, he must have left it behind in the hospital wing. Jordan laughed, almost disdainfully, and Albus frowned, confused.

"Jordan, w-what's going on?" He stared at his friend, and the boy suddenly stumbled back, staring at his hands in shock. His own eyes widened, looking at Albus fearfully.

"When did you get there?" He asked, confused, and Albus shook his head, alarmed at his friend's display.

"I was always here, Jord. You just… flipped at me." He whispered hoarsely, suddenly afraid. The other boy shook his head, before muttering the password at the wall. He stared once more at Albus, before running off back in the direction he had come. Albus started, watching him run away quickly. Quickly, he entered the common room, before the wall sealed shut behind him once more. What had that all been about?

"Albus!" A voice called to him, and he turned to see Scorpius wave one hand at him from beside the fire. A blanket was strewn over him, in combat to the chilled temperature of the room despite the heat outside, and Albus grimaced, moving like an old man to sit beside him, seizing half of the blanket, suddenly cold.

"Hey, sorry about last night, man, I -" Albus cut him off, waving a hand wearily.

"Did you do something to Jordan?" He asked abruptly, and his friend's eyes widened in innocent confusion.

"W-what?" He asked curiously, and Albus shook his head, preferring to keep _that_ instance private for now. Sighing against the cushions, tired, he thanked whoever was looking down on him that it was, at last, Saturday, and closed his eyes.

"Are you feeling any better today, Al?" Scorpius' voice rose above the silence, and Albus nodded wearily, rubbing at the back of his neck and grimacing. He stiffened as a cool hand was placed against his skin, pressing lightly at the knots that had accumulated there. For a moment, he floundered, but then relaxed as his neck began to soothe, feeling slightly better. Trying to ignore the fact of who was suddenly massaging his neck for him, he breathed out heavily, realising that in actual fact, Scorpius was _very_ good at massages, too good, in fa- what was he thinking? Madness.

Leaping away from the seat, he rushed in the direction of the dormitories, concentrating all of his willpower on not looking back at the blond Slytherin who was most undoubtedly staring after him, confused.

Collapsing on his bed, he threw his pillow onto his face, screaming a muffled scream against the material. What was he thinking? He couldn't - wouldn't - think like that. It wasn't - it wasn't right. Possible. Probable.

Abruptly, a separate thought stopped him from anguishing over his… whatevers, for Scorpius. Why had Jordan opened the common room for him?


	8. A Harmony Remembered

_He was running, his feet pounding the stone flagged floor hard, almost in time with the heavy beating of his hard. Gasping for breath, he glanced behind him, and at the sight that befell his eyes, he sped up inconceivably, trying to put as much distance between himself and his pursuer as possible. As he reached a fork in the pathway, he gave a startled glance at each side, before high tailing down the trail to his left. As endless trees and wayward branches caught on his clothes, whipping his robes out behind him, he regretted not taking the other path immediately. Hearing footsteps behind him, he realised that he had slowed down, and forced his feet to work in over time, despite the painful jolt that he was receiving with every footfall._

_As the path widened out, he skittered to a halt at the edge of a wide expanse of water, with no sign of a route to carry on running. Alarmed, he tried to see a way to cross the lake, but short of freezing the entire pool, and exhausting his energies completely, he saw nothing. Spinning wildly as his chaser caught up with him, he took a step backwards towards the water._

" _Stop running away." The boy muttered to him, exasperated, and he clenched his eyes shut tightly, willing the boy away from him. As he opened his eyes again, he yelped in fright to see the boy had come much closer, impossibly silent. Blond hair framed unwavering blue eyes, and his own eyes widened in protest. He tried to move back, but met only water, cold and wet on his heels._

" _Just stop running away." The boy leant closer, and his lips drew closer, his eyes fluttering closed, like butterfli-_

Albus awoke abruptly from his dream, breathing hard in the darkness of the Slytherin dormitory. Looking down at his fully clothed figure, and the opened hangings around his bed, he surmised that he had once again fallen asleep in the middle of something. Floundering in the dark of the early morning, he reached for his wand, casting _Lumos_ over the room to see the other four boys were asleep, hangings still drawn. He could hear Alec Zabini snoring softly to his right, and could see Scorpius tossing and turning in his sleep to his left. Grimacing at the sight, he pushed himself from the bed, padding silently from the room.

As he exited the dormitory as quietly as he could, he was about to pull the map from his pocket, but was interrupted by Lois, who had just entered the room, looking as if he had spent the entire night rushing around the Forbidden Forest.

"Ah, Al… funny seeing you here." Lois visibly blanched, and Albus raised an eyebrow, inquisitive.

"Erm… I… ah… don't tell my sister I've been out of here." He pleaded, and Albus sniggered slightly, realising where the boy had been immediately.

"Have fun out with Rachel?" He snorted, and Lois glowered at his cousin, raising his wand threateningly. Rolling his eyes, Albus sauntered toward the door, looking at Lois without concern.

"Put the wand down, dude. I know you won't use it." He called as he strolled out of the door. He heard the blond curse after him, and Albus laughed as he left the common room behind him.

As he walked slowly along, unsure of where he was going, all distraction from his cousin dissipated, and he felt his heart grow heavy as he remembered his dream. On top of the strange "prophecy" he had found, and the strange activity of Jordan, he was not having a decent week thus far.

Tugging the map from his robes, he unfurled it, tapping his wand to it gently.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He quickly scanned the drawing quickly, and before it had even finished spreading out across the parchment, he tapped it once more, having quickly located the person he needed to see.

Hurrying towards the third floor staircase, Albus narrowly avoided being sighted by Mr Filch, which was only combated by leaping into a broom cupboard at the last minute as the haggard old squib stormed past, muttering of "ill-mannered sixth years" and mud all over the girls' bathroom floor.

Not wanting to know why Mr Filch had even been in the girls' bathroom, Albus slipped from the cupboard quietly as the care taker rounded the corner ahead of him. Leaping up the steps two at a time, to avoid the disappearing step, he headed towards the defence against the dark arts classrooms, intent on finding who he had seen on the map before they moved somewhere else.

Knocking on the office doors, he heard a voice from within call out, and Albus quietly pushed the door open, pushing his head around it almost nervously.

"May I come in?" He asked, and Teddy Lupin nodded, looking up from his desk wearily. Upon the desk was strewn a pile of papers full of complex looking diagrams.

The man's hair was still the colour of teal, Albus remarked inwardly, and decided that the man must very much like that colour, given that he had rarely seen it change throughout the year at all. As Albus moved closer to the desk, Lupin threw the piles of paper into a large case beside him, leaving the wooden top clear for him to lean upon, fingers linked beneath his chin.

"Can I talk to you, sir?" He asked, resigned to leave if the teacher once again rebuffed his help. Instead, he nodded, expression set into one of apathy, and tiredness.

"What's up, Al?" The defence teacher sounded utterly exhausted, and Albus frowned with sympathy.

"You sound as I rough as I feel, sir." Lupin smiled offhandedly, and looked at the boy with an expectant expression upon his face.

"Lately I've been having weird dreams. About… about Voldemort, I think, sir. And the things that have been happening… they seem so similar to Dad's time at Hogwarts. It's starting to freak me out." Albus suddenly felt foolish for coming here, wondering if it had been the right idea after all. Instead, Lupin held up a finger, rummaging in his desk for something out of sight. Curious, Albus watched as the man drew out a strange looking book; the cover was quite new, showing it to be an Advanced Potion Making book, but the inside pages appeared to be dog eared and yellowed with age.

"This was your father's when they went to school. I don't know why, but I get the feeling it may give you some answers. Maybe he wrote in it at some point; it's filled with scribbles and ideas. Look, Al, I may not be the most helpful teacher, but I promise you - the rest of the teachers and I are doing everything in our power to help you. Trust me." He gazed evenly at Albus, and he reached out to take the book. As the cover was about to touch his fingers, Lupin snapped it back sharply, frowning.

He muttered something under his breath, his wand dusting over the cover with a shine of brightness. Puzzled, Albus looked at the book as Lupin passed it over once more.

"What were you doing to it?" Albus asked, looking the book over with a confused gaze. Lupin shrugged, placing his wand back in its holder.

"Just… just checking it for dark spells. It was around in the wars, y'know? Don't worry about it!" Albus looked at the professor, bemused, and started to leave the room.

"Thank you, sir." The professor looked up from the desk, where the piles of paper had been restored. The man was pressing his fingers to his temples, and merely glanced at Albus before nodding briefly, turning his gaze back downwards.

* * *

"C'mon Al! Just owl them, please?" Lily had been whining at Albus' elbow for the best part of an hour, and he shrugged, shielding his owl, Arathore, from the incessant pawing of the first year. She had been pleading all day to use the poor snowy owl to send a message to their parents about some minor matter that he didn't care about.

"Lily, have you looked outside today? I'm not sending my own owl out into a blizzard to send a message to mum about how you grew an inch. Go and bother someone else, or go back in time and get an owl instead of that stupid tabby furball you call a kitten." His sister glared at him, before storming away with a 'hrmph!'. Sighing, Albus looked back down at the table in front of him. He had settled himself in front of the library's fire, and was secretly eating a packet of cauldron cakes under the desk as he read from his father's book.

The potions book was filled with his father's untidy writing, the spidery shapes forming advice on how to make the perfect draught of living dead, and even tips on how to reduce the danger levels of the famous potion, Felix Felicis. But besides that, it was filled with tens of dozens of seemingly made up spells and charms. A spell caught his eye, and he glanced at the fire, pondering.

" _Spiritu vivici!_ " He muttered, flicking his wand at the fire with its given movement. At once, shapes formed in the fire; faces, hands, motion. Glancing around, Albus checked to make sure that nobody was about, but with the hour as late as it was, the only other person in the room was a ghost that had been drifting in and out through the southern wall every five minutes for the last half hour.

Edging closer, he watched as the fire rose up, a woman's face forming in front of him. She smiled, waving one slender hand, before fluttering away from the grate. Mouth open, unabashed, Albus watched as the fire woman danced in the air, her half translucent form devoid of any cover. As he lowered his wand, so did she, once again attaching herself to the grate. Smiling one last time, she dived back into herself, and Albus found himself once again alone in the room as the lone ghost flitted back out into the second floor corridors.

* * *

"What in the world is that? It's destroyed!" Rose berated him the next morning at breakfast, seizing the book from his grasp to flick through it, tutting at the scribbles lining the page margins.

"Give that back, Rose! It was my dad's!" He yelped, reaching out his hands to grab the book back from her. His cousin's eyes widened, looking doubtfully at the potions book.

"Are you sure about that?" She looked suspicious, and picked the book up from Albus' hands once more, this time much slower so as to avoid him taking it back. Opening it to a random page, her gaze fell upon a spell. Reluctantly, she took out her wand, muttering a spell under her breath.

"ROSE?" Albus yelled as he suddenly found himself hovering above the table, the people around him turning to first stare, and then laugh at the sight of Albus Potter hanging in mid air by one ankle. He glared disdainfully as his brother appeared in front of him, looking even more stupid upside down, with his perpetually stupid grin on his perpetually stupid face.

"Y'know, I remember dad mentioning this spell once. Apparently it was _really_ funny to use when him and Uncle Ron were in the middle of auror training. Think of it; ginger hair everywhere, gangling limbs kicking out at his supervisors. _Brilliant._ Can't believe it went out of fashion. I think I may have to start using this one. Watch your back at Christmas, bro." Winking, James wandered off, and Albus crossed his arms angrily.

"Let me down, Rose. This is not funny anymore. Why in Merlin's name I ever decided to sit at the Ravenclaw table today, I've no idea." Rose smirked at him, waving her arm tantalisingly in front of him in preparation for the counter spell.

"You sat here because, for some inexplicable reason, you're refusing to speak to your best friend. Now, say please, and I'll let you down." Albus glared at her, uncrossing his arms to place his hands together.

"Please, oh dearest, best ever cousin?" He pleaded, and a second later, he found himself upside down on the table with his head in a bowl of marmalade.


	9. An Arachnid's Cadance

Albus pushed the door to the common room open, thankful for the weekend that had taken far too long to arrive. Stretching his arms, tired once more despite having showered and breakfasted, he noticed that his favourite seat by the fireplace was empty.

The common room was deserted but for the sigh of the fire, and Albus sank back into the soft cushions of the leather armchair gratefully. A beam of light shone in through the low window, the single ray streaking across his calf as he folded his ankle over his knee. Settling, he pulled the book out from his bag, as had become his habit, and turned it to a dog eared page that was already beginning to fall out. Scanning the page, he looked eagerly for notes on new spells or potions. As he read, he noticed something that, in his mind, did not fit right.

_Those idiot boys, they infuriate me. Only today, the pompous dog decided that it would be hilarious to cast that damned spell on me in full view of the rest of the school. I am afraid that I lost my head a little; I will have to make that up to Lily as soon as I can, or I am scared that she will give up on me, as the rest have. I cannot stand it here any longer; I do not know why the idiots are still here. From the amount of idiotic pranks ad gestures that they have performed here, I am surprised that they have not been expelled already._

Albus frowned, tapping the page curiously, as if it would reveal whatever secrets it possessed at his touch. This didn't seem right. Why would his father be writing about a girl called Lily? He wouldn't have been speaking of Albus' grandmother or sister; neither were alive when his father was at school. He was interrupted from his musings as somebody entered the common room noisily. Glancing up, he saw Alec enter with Scorpius hot on his heels, laughing at something that had been said before.

Halfway across the common room, Scorpius noticed Albus watching them, and grinned, crossing the room to throw himself down on the other armchair, leaving Alec to take up the entirety of the settee across from the blond.

"Hey Al, you should have come to Hogsmeade with us. It was hilarious, some Hufflepuffs decided to go ice skating on the lake. Obviously, it didn't end well. Cue one very wet, very angry Zeke Smith. Hilarious." Scorpius sniggered, not noticing the book that Albus was hastily hiding away in his bag. The blond looked flushed, his cheeks pink and hair askew. Albus glanced inconspicuously at Alec, and noticed a similar state of disarray, and as he made to stand up, the boy stood up, dark eyes flashing in Scorpius' direction with a expression that Albus did not recognise.

"Scor, you wanna finish that… er… Ancient Runes homework? I need help with it." He asked slightly breathlessly, and the blond grinned, waving nonchalantly at Albus before heading off towards the dorms. Glancing back behind him, Albus was left with a feeling of mild abandonment. Shrugging the feelings off, he shouldered his satchel, and stormed from the common room, his good mood at having a break from homework dashed as he slammed the entrance shut behind him.

* * *

"Rose, look at this." Al was sat outside beneath a tall, aged oak beside his cousin, who had for the last fifteen minutes been panicking about her misplaced potions book, only to then find it stuffed at the bottom of her overflowing bag. Albus had asked many time why she needed to carry her entire book collection around with her at all times, but had been met by a wall of disgruntled silence each time.

He placed the book in her hands, open at the page he had found earlier. He pointed out the small paragraph of quickly scrawled text, and he could see a furrow of confusion settle on her eyebrows almost immediately. Twining a strand of waving red hair around one finger, she mouthed the words that had been written to herself, the furrow becoming more and more noticeable.

"Who told you this was your dad's?" She asked, her investigative side coming out almost immediately. She had most definitely inherited her mother's brains, and as Albus explained the incident in Lupin's office, he could see the cogs and wheels of her brain spinning into action as she laid the facts out before her.

"Maybe it's a code? Maybe Lily was just a nickname for someone your dad knew…" She trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"I don't know, Al. I can't work this one out. Too little information, I think." She passed the book back, and Albus grimaced in defeat, shoving the book back in his bag desolately. As he pondered the strange paragraph, he watched a gang of fifth years march past, laughing with an ease he found himself missing. This was insane! He had hoped for a calm, normal year, and as he thought of it, he chided himself. He was Harry Potter's son after all. As if he was entitled to a normal life in any way, shape or form. Sighing, he stood up, leaving Rose to finish her potions essay.

Stepping over to the edge of the lake, he watched across the surface of the water, where the liquid was not frozen over by ice, and pulled his cloak tighter around him. Shivering, he glanced up as the castle loomed over him, feeling almost as if something was watching him. Waiting.

* * *

"What's going on, Scorp?" Albus muttered as the walked down the hall to the common room. It was late; they had just returned from a late dinner thanks to Rose's insistence that they visit Hagrid together.

"What do you mean?" Scorpius had seemed distant from Albus all evening, not that he could blame him. He kept thinking back to the other evening when - no. Albus didn't need to think about that right now.

"You and Alec. You seemed oddly cosy earlier. Scorp, is there something you aren't telling me?" Albus breathed in, guarding himself for an answer, when Scorpius turned around, glaring almost disdainfully at his friend.

"Get over it, Al. You're too - shit!" Scorpius broke off mid sentence, leaving Albus wondering what he was doing, and walked closer to the wall. There was a broken window pane about halfway up the wall, and a thin trail of spiders streaming to the floor, running out into the stiff evening air, and down the side of the outer walls.

"What the…?" Albus joined his friend by the wall, watching the creatures run, their spindly legs looking ridiculous as they clamoured to exit the building, seemingly as fast as they could.

"I swear… this is too freaky. This is like what your dad found when he was at school. The actual…" He whitened, and pointed at the wall behind them, staggering backwards. Albus followed his line of sight, and went equally white. Upon the wall was a warning in red;

_He always promised to return. Enemies beware._

"Albus… what's going on?" Scorpius had lost his usual composure, to be replaced by a frantic breathlessness. His friend shook his head, grabbing Scorpius' hand, pulling him away from the wall.

"Dude, we need to get a teacher. Now!" Nodding in agreement, the boys started yelling at the top of their voices. As they kept screaming, they could hear footsteps slamming against the flagged floor, teachers and students alike appearing from all directions to work out what the noise was.

Professor Strauss appeared to the left of the boys, her grey hair askew, and her hat falling at an angle. She was pulling her cloak up to her chin, having clearly been taking an early evening. As the headmistress got closer, she saw the wall, and clutched dramatically at her chest, eyes widening. Immediately, she ushered Albus and Scorpius away from the wall, her expression frantic.

"Boys, what is going on?" She asked, voice scared, though she tried to hide it to keep hold of an air of authority. Albus and Scorpius both looked at each other, shrugging.

"We just… we found this. We were coming back from dinner - yes, I know we were late, but we'd been out to Professor Hagrid's earlier - and just… walked into this." Albus was afraid; what was going on?

"Go back to your dormitories, Potter, Malfoy. I will see you in my office tomorrow morning to hear the full stories. I know of what has been happening lately; it needs discussing. Move along now." She ushered the boys in the direction of the dungeons, and they scurried to the common room without looking behind them once.

"Albus. Al. _Albus!_ " A voice hissed through the darkness, and Albus pulled his bed hanging apart slightly to reveal a pale, thin face staring at him in the darkness. Startled, Albus jumped backwards, eyes widening slightly as the pyjama-clad blond climbed stiffly into his bed.

"Scorpius, what-" Albus started as his friend looked grimly at his folded arms.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, and Albus' eyes widened impossibly in confusion.

"For what?" He shot back, and his friend shrugged, looking away from Albus, almost as if he were determined not to look the brunette in the eye.

"Just, lately. I've been acting weird, I know. I'm sorry." He smiled slightly, and Albus snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Like that makes a change." He nudged the blond in the ribs playfully, and the other boy nudged back, sending Albus sprawling on the bed. Glaring up at the still sat Malfoy, he rolled over, grumbling, to turn his back on his friend. Smiling slightly behind his hand, he pummelled the pillow into submission before he managed to get comfy. Expecting Scorpius to leave to his own bed, he was surprised to feel Scorpius settle down beside him, back pressed lightly to his own. Feeling a strange twinge in his stomach, Albus closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the other boy behind him, and gradually, he fell asleep.


	10. A Magpie's Cry

Opening his eyes, Scorpius stared at the fold of emerald velvet that had found itself a perch upon his nose, and wondered just how he had ended up so close to the edge of his bed. Images of his dreams floated lazily into his mind, and he sighed, reluctant, unwanted half-memories pushing at the edges of his subconscious. He fought momentarily against the thoughts, and instead settled on pondering the exact shade of the intrusive bed hangings.

Groaning stiffly, he attempted to stretch his arms out, feeling the knots in his back begin to crack, before reaching a barrier of resistance.

"Ow, Scorp! That was my fucking rib." Albus pulled himself from his previous position - sprawled like a dead body over _most_ of the bed - and scowled, rubbing his chest and grimacing. Blinking, bemused, Scorpius assessed his surroundings. He was laid at the edge of Albus' bed, practically clinging to the mattress for dear life at the miniscule amount of space that had been at his disposal before his friend had shifted.

Groaning, he pulled himself away from the side of the bed, throwing himself back on Albus' pillow, muscles aching wearily.

"Have you ever considered lying like someone… oh, I don't know, alive? Seriously Al, I pity whatever woman you decide to marry when you get old." He spoke without thinking, and before he realised what he had said, his friend had leapt from the bed, muttering something about a shower and study session in the library. Sighing, he dragged himself from the entangled covers and shuffled to his own bed, before throwing himself down upon the top of it, not bothering to pull the blankets back before falling back to sleep again. Sundays, he mused, as he drifted off, were for sleeping only, not studying.

* * *

"Scorpius!" A voice called behind him, as he headed over to the great hall for a late breakfast hours later, and he turned reluctantly on his heel, the seductive scents of bacon snatched from beneath his nose. A whirl of red hair filled his vision before he was barrelled into, landing heavily on the floor. The tired muscles from the night before screamed in protest as he felt them collide painfully with the floor, and he blinked up, confused, as Rose Weasley pummelled his arms and chest with her satchel angrily. He pushed her off, regretting once more that she had such an adoration for heavy, leather bound books, and edged away from her, holding his own bag in front of him warily in case of another attack.

"What in Dumbledore's name is _wrong_ with you, you complete nut job?" He yelled at her, and the few students that had been sauntering past stopped to stare curiously at the scene they were causing.

Rose looked around to see the gaggle of spectators, and pulled her wand out, brandishing it threateningly until they moved on. She turned to Scorpius, her face matching her hair in her seeming anger.

"What's wrong with me? More like what's wrong with you, you idiot!" She stared at him, her eyes narrowed in warning, and he held his hands up before him, admitting a very confused surrender. A dozen possibilities flung themselves into his brain, and he mentally scanned through the list; had he accidentally spilled a pot of ink on her potions essay? Or had she found that secret stash of Firewhisky filled cauldron cakes? He quashed these possible reasons; none seemed particularly likely to induce Rose's wrath this much. Then, unbidden, an image of the lake swam into his mind, from where he had stood yesterday in Hogsmeade, hand held almost unwillingly as he was pulled into a small copse of snow topped firs…

"Rose, much as I'd like to agree with you, I've no idea what you're talking about." He spoke calmly, glancing warily at the heavy leather satchel poised in her clenched fists. The girl's eyes lost their narrowed quality, and she instead merely gained a curious expression. Grabbing Scorpius by the sleeve, she tugged at his arm until he followed her outside, catching a slight smell of fried pork rinds once more before they were outside.

"Albus. You and Albus. What on earth is going on with you two? You've barely spoken in a week, and I just want to get across the fact that I am _so_ not playing messenger to you two. Ever." She glared at him, folding her arms as he shivered in the cold of the outside. He had not been prepared to leave the castle, and he thought longingly of his fur lined cloak hanging up in the dormitories, more so of the fire that would be crackling merrily in the common room. Sighing, he pulled his thin robes around him, and shrugged helplessly.

"Search me Ro, search me. We talked last night a little. It's… it's complicated." He frowned, contemplating just how complicated it really was; was the a problem there, or was he merely making it up in his mind? Rose shook her head at him, looking for all the world like her mother. Scorpius shivered, whether from the cold, or the thought of the frankly terrifying memory of Mrs Weasley, he did not quite know.

"Look, just sort it, okay? I really cannot be bothered to go find new friends. Honestly." She stormed off, and Scorpius stared after her, shaking his head. As he stood in the courtyard of the castle, shivering, he realised that he was free to move, and hurriedly followed in her wake, leaving the frigid early December air behind him thankfully.

* * *

"Boys!" Lupin yelled as Scorpius and Albus entered the room five minutes after the last bell had rung throughout the castle, and the blond winced outwardly as the professor fixed a steely eyed glare at them.

Scorpius had awoken late that morning after a fitful night's sleep, punctuated by nightmares he did not understand, and almost-memories that he had tried to prevent with a significant amount of Dreamless Sleep. Albus being Albus had waited patiently for him to finally awake, shoved a smoked salmon bagel at him, and dragged him at what seemed like hyper speed to Monday morning Transfiguration. As they fell into the room, they earned a scathing glare from Rose, who was already seated at her desk, a caged magpie beside her with what seemed like an equally judgmental glare as its current owner.

"Late again, it seems? Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you both tonight, nine o'clock. Don't bother bringing wands, I need these magpie cages cleaning out." He handed them two cages as they sat down, and they grimaced at the prospect of cleaning without magic. Scorpius glared disdainfully at his magpie, taunting it by dangling his silver chain necklace in front of it.

"You had better behave, stupid bird." He sneered, and took out his wand, sneaking a sideways glance at the work sheet that was sat before Rose.

_Your task today is to transform the magpie's black feathers into a new colour; this colour must not be a natural colour. Be imaginative!_

_Incantation: Noviuscole Animus_

_Wrist movement: Half of a clockwise wand turn, paired with a right diagonal jab._

"So, why were you two late, again?" Rose sniffed as she transformed her bird's feathers a bright purple, and Scorpius shrugged as Albus jabbed at his bird, succeeding only in antagonising it as its feathers stayed a glossy midnight black.

"Overdosed a little on Dreamless Sleep." She tutted at him, before turning the bird's feathers again to a vivid electric blue. A loud squawk rang out from beside him, and he found Albus looking sheepishly at him as his bird's eye watered through its unwavering glare.

"I don't think I'm very good at this." He placed his wand on the desk, turning instead to watch as Scorpius transformed the magpie's feathers into a grey-tinted teal.

"I'm not much better, it seems… too much gre-" He was interrupted as he noticed Albus staring at the bird's feathers with an oddly discerning look upon his face. Scorpius poked his friend in the arm, looking at him curiously as Albus shook his head, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Are you okay, Al?" He asked, but Albus merely shook his head, picking his wand up again and trying to turn the magpie with more vigour than before, his face red with concentration. Gaping, Scorpius thought of asking, but immediately realised something else.

"What do you mean, why are _we_ late? You're the one that always comes in after us." Scorpius glared at Rose, and she flushed, giggling slightly, before raising an eyebrow, and transforming her bird's shining pink feathers into a rainbow spectrum, and looking pointedly at the depressing looking colour of his own bird.

"Because, Scorpius, I don't need Professor Lupin to explain to me that clockwise is most definitely not anti-clockwise."

* * *

"Hey Al!" A voice called cheerfully from across the common room as they returned after disastrous Divination class, in which Professor Trelawney had burst suddenly in tears at the mention of Roy Corner's removal to St. Mungo's earlier that day.

"His mother had been one of my favourite pupils… always so eager. It's simply too horrible!" She had proclaimed, before going into a tear filled rant about Lavender Corner's expertise in Divination in her school days as Lavender Brown. Scorpius had ushered the class out of the room as she dissolved into floods of tears beside her teacup collection.

Blinking back to the present, he looked up to see Jordan Finnegan picking his way across the room, nearly tripping over a pair of first years that were laid on the floor, playing a heated game of Wizard's Chess.

"Lupin gave me this to give to you." Finnegan handed the brunette a scroll, and turned away quickly, not before glaring disdainfully at Scorpius. Glaring back at the boy as he crossed back to his own seat, he asked Albus what the scroll said.

"He says to come at 10 instead, apparently he has some stuff to sort out with Victoire at the moment. I don't even want to know, to be honest." He shuddered, laughing, and placed the re-wrapped scroll on the table, before leaning back lazily.

"Hey, Scorp?"

"Mm?"

"What were you and Alec doing the other day? I mean, really. Ancient Runes homework? Yeah right." The boy's eyes were shut, his face relaxed as he leant amicably against Scorpius' knees, and he froze, swallowing rapidly. Thinking back to the other day, he grimaced. It had seemed like a good idea at the time…

* * *

 

" _Hey, don't be like that. Come on, Scor." A voice muttered, and Scorpius turned away, shrugging, non-committed. A dark hand appeared on his own as he leant against the railings to the side of the lake, and caressed the pale skin that contrasted so greatly with its own. Scorpius turned to the owner of the hand, heart beating rapidly._

" _Alec, I-" He was cut off as his friend leaned to him, kissing him gently on the lips. He would have jumped back in alarm had it not been for the railing that was now behind him, and the hand that trailed itself around his neck possessively._

_He could feel Alec sighing into him, and he forced himself to shut his eyes, trying to block out what was happening._

_As the kiss deepened, he heard a gang of students nearing, and he shoved Alec away roughly, leaning coolly against the iron bars of the fence. Alec followed suit, but as the group passed, he pulled Scorpius away from the edge of the lake, towards a small group of trees across the road from them. Hand tugging on his own, he felt at loss for what to say, reluctant to protestations._

_Alec stepped through the trees, and Scorpius followed obediently, reluctant. Once away from the road, the other boy pushed him against an imposing oak tree, pulling him once more in what must have been, for Alec, heated. Clenching his eyes shut, Scorpius tried to imagine somebody else kissing him, and surprisingly, it worked. Alec became another boy in his mind, dark hair and bright eyes lending to this falsehood, and he found himself responding to the kiss in more ways than one; he reached out a hand to tangle in the other boy's black hair, and kissed back with a force that surprised him. Breathlessly, Alec leant away from him, whispering in his ear as he did;_

" _Let's go back to school." Scorpius nodded without thinking, brushing the spray of snow that had fallen to Alec's shoulder to the ground._

* * *

" _He's gone, come on." Scorpius felt a hand tugging once again on his sleeve, and he watched his best friend leave the common room, the door slamming behind him and disappearing into the camouflage of the wall. Sighing, he turned away, following Alec towards the dormitory. The boy was strong, his muscles tensing as they pulled the blond, and Scorpius found himself beginning to feel oddly breathless._

_As the door closed behind them, Alec pushed him against his own bed, kissing him hard as he fumbled against him, fingers pulling relentlessly at Scorpius' trousers. Scorpius gasped as he felt a hand slide into his trousers, and he clenched his eyes shut, feeling all of a sudden disgusted with himself. As Alec reached down, he leapt away, struggling to re-fasten his trousers._

" _Scor?" Alec asked questioningly, and Scorpius shook his head, turning away. The other boy shrugged, and walked from the room as Scorpius slumped down against Alec's bed, sighing, confused._

" _Argh!" He yelled against the pillow, and cursed himself through the darkness._

* * *

 

"Nothing, Al."


	11. A Princely Intention

Albus was staring into his soup bowl, exhausted, when Lois threw himself down on the bench beside him. Nudging his fellow Slytherin awake, he reached for the marmalade that was perched on top of another jar in front of the almost-sleeping Potter.

"Yo, Al. You awake in there dude?" Blinking awake, Albus looked up to see his cousin looking at him, concerned. His strawberry blond hair fell in his eyes, and his freckles stood out obnoxiously on his pale skin. Groaning, Albus pushed himself up from his pillow of soup and rubbed his eyes with the back of his fist, pushing away the final debris of sleep. Shaking his head abruptly, he stared at his cousin again, having not heard the previous statement.

"I said, are. You. Awake?" Lois punctuated his words slowly, laughing and ruffling the younger boy's hair. Glaring, Albus grabbed a bread roll from a basket, biting into it almost viciously and chewing.

"I'm awake. What's up?" He asked begrudgingly, glaring through his fringe at the laughing Weasley.

"Can I borrow Arathore? I need to owl my mum about getting me a new cloak. Mine's had it - your sister's cat got to it the other day - and it's a bit cold to go outside without one." He waved to Lily good naturedly as she entered the hall carrying the cat in question in her arms, and he turned back to glare, irritated.

"Bloody thing's going to find itself on the wrong end of _Incendio_ one of these days." He grumbled, and Albus nodded brightly, reaching for a jar of mint sauce for his dinner.

"I'd normally just floo her, but our floo's been down for months. Suppose it's better this way though; I don't get Victoire constantly coming through and tidying my room for me. Do you have any idea how many things I've lost now from Uncle George's shop? I swear, she hates the idea of me havi-" Albus had stopped listening; the floo was broken? How then, was Lupin able to contact his girlfriend as he had been doing for the past few weeks? He dimly heard glass shattering, as the jar of sauce slipped through his hands, and saw Lois leap from his seat to clear the glass away.

"Albus, why are you so clumsy? Both of your parents are world class Quidditch players; you should have some sense of balance somewhere." He heard Lois sigh, and he shook his head, before leaping from the bench and exiting the hall in a hurry.

He heard somebody calling his name, but ignored them to slip through the half open doors of the castle and burst into the cold winter air. He sat himself down upon a low stone bench, and watched as the giant squid basked in the shallow depths of the lake's edge. Something didn't feel right, something was wrong, he knew it.

Thinking back to what Lupin had told him, he brought out the book he had been given, from his bag, as had become his habit in the more recent days. Lupin had told him it would help, but so far all it had done was teach him minor spells to aid in hilarity, such as a spell to cause someone's toenails to grow extremely quickly - that one had been amusing when aimed at Zeke Smith and his gaggle of self important friends in the middle of Herbology - and a spell to create a tripping wire over a large expansive area - also amusing when directed at Zeke Smith and co. when journeying through Hogsmeade.

Amusing as the minor spells had been, they had offered him no help whatsoever. He flipped absently through the pages of the book, reading random snippets until something intriguing caught his eye.

_Sectumsempra; for enemies._

Nothing else had been written, and Albus felt his fingers itching to find out what it did. But at that moment, the bell for afternoon lessons began, and he begrudgingly trudged in the direction of Muggle Studies, still feeling exhausted. More nightmares had been punctuating his sleep, and as such, he had found a tendency for not only falling asleep in History of Magic, but also Charms, Defence classes, and Potions, the last of which had not amused Slughorn, who had bestowed a week of detentions on Albus. These were, funnily enough, not helping his Insomnia, and to top it all, Scorpius had completely depleted the third year Slytherins' stock of Dreamless Sleep, resulting in bags under Albus' eyes that looked as if they had set up home for the long haul.

As he pushed open the door to Muggle Studies, Rachel McMillan looked up at him, her blonde hair tied up in an intricate plait that she seemed to save especially for the lessons she spent beside Albus. He slid into the seat behind her, leaning away as she edged slightly closer to him. Sometimes, he questioned the obviousness of some of the girls in his year, especially those in Gryffindor. He sent a pleading look to Rose as she turned to welcome him, who was seated to the front of the class, and she grimaced in answer, looking slightly amused at Rachel's display of adoration.

"Good of you to pop in, Potter. That will be five points from Slytherin for tardiness." Professor Colstein glared at him through pursed lips, and Rachel patted his arm sympathetically beside him. He shot her a look of annoyance, and she edged away slightly, looking a little abashed. The green haired witch tutted, before turning rather extravagantly to the board. Taking a long metre rule, she poked at a drawing of a long, thin thing that had been drawn previously.

"This is what muggles call a hosepipe. Now, judging from the way these are held and stored, it has been noted that the modern day hosepipe is some form of domesticated snake that is now used as a pet- FINCH FLETCHLY! Take notes, or I will give you lines."

* * *

Later that evening, Albus, Scorpius and Jordan Finnegan were sat by the fire of the common room after a particularly nasty detention with Slughorn in which Albus had been made to clean out the first years' cauldrons. He had reappeared in the common room two hours later gasping for air and a shower. Even half an hour later, the smell of rotten eggs still lingered in the air, and a number of people had cast bubble head charms to keep from having to breathe in the smell.

"I think next time you should just be on time for lessons, dude. I mean, you were in the great hall with me!" Jordan exclaimed nasally; he was wary of producing a bubble head charm, and had instead placed a clothes peg on his nose. As such, he was having some trouble breathing.

"Yeah well, I'll consider that next time. Seriously, that guy is so weird. One minute I'm the golden boy, the next I'm his worst enemy. Swear the guy's got a massive grudge for some reason." Albus grumbled, and Jordan nodded, looking sympathetic.

"I know the feeling. My dad is the worst with grudges. Even if something happened when he was in his teens, he'll still be holding it against them, even now." He said solemnly, and Albus grimaced. Relatives like that were the worst.

"I'm gonna go have another shower guys. I need to get rid of this smell, badly." Jordan nodded, waving him off gratefully, and Scorpius inclined his head slightly, not looking up from his History of Magic essay, still a foot from completion, that was in for the next morning.

* * *

"Hey, Al! You feeling better now?" Scorpius poked his head around the door of the mostly deserted library, and Albus nodded, scrawling down the last sentence of his long overdue Charms essay. The outcome of the previous night's detention had eventually resulted in an overwhelming sickness, possibly induced by the awful smell that still drifted around certain parts of both the common room and the school. The sickness had been so bad overnight that Slughorn had relented, giving up on his daily detentions for one final weekend detention to be carried out the coming Saturday.

Scorpius slumped down in the table beside him, looking around to see who else was in the library. Albus had chosen a table to the back of the library, beside a large window that overlooked the lake. The library was deserted but for Madame Pince, a gaggle of first years including Lily Potter, and the rapidly moving Rose Weasley, who seemed to be both looking for a book, and attempting to gain access to the only part of the library where she hadn't read every book; the Restricted Section.

"One day, we'll get away from Hogwarts. Everything will be calm, and we can all live in houses near to each other, like your's and Rose's parents. Obviously, not like my dad, 'cause of the whole… hating each other thing, but y'know. I can't wait to get out of here." Scorpius sighed, leaning back in the leather arm chair crossing one leg over the other in a display of relaxation. Albus nodded distractedly as he scanned through his father's book some more. His eyes fell yet again on the spell for enemies, and he found himself wondering what it did.

"I can't wait to just leave everything behind. Three more years… and then, no homework. You could get married! Get Finnegan to be your bridesmaid or something…" He vaguely heard Scorpius talking in the background, and missed the bitterness of his words as he frowned.

"What are you talking about, Scorp?" He asked, resigned, and Scorpius shrugged.

"You just seem to not really care lately. It's… well. Y'know. It kinda sucks." Albus glared at his friend through his fringe, blowing the hair out of his eyes as he snorted.

"You have no idea, Scorp." He muttered, and the blond glared at him, before standing roughly away from the table, pushing his chair so that it nearly fell over.

"Yeah right, Albus. Grow up, look around. Try being a bit more observant for once in your life." He turned to storm from the room, and Albus growled; this was getting ridiculous. One minute, they were the best of friends, there for each other, then the next, they were at each other's throats; enemies. He glanced at the open Advanced Potion Making book, and took out his wand, determined to find out what the spell did in a moment of weakness.

"Sectumsempra." He muttered, pointing his wand half heartedly at his friend as he left.

At once, he knew he had done something wrong; Scorpius had paused, looking down at something Albus couldn't see, his face white. Then the blond backed away to slump against the bookshelf, gasping aloud as he stared down at his front. Albus followed his line of sight, and immediately felt nauseous - blood was pouring from deep lacerations in his friend's chest, and Scorpius had gone the colour of the snow outside.

Leaping from his seat, he jumped to Scorpius' side, feeling so much guilt roll over him that he could not believe what he was feeling. The blood dripping to the floor was scarlet and vivid against the Slytherin's starched, white shirt, and he pulled out his wand, throwing _episkey_ spells wherever he could, but they didn't seem to be working.

Crying out in horror, he frantically tried to press his scarf against the wounds to staunch the bleeding, but it wasn't working.

"Rose!" He called out, and she came running, with Madam Pince hot on her heels. Scorpius was moaning, his eyes clenched shut in pain. There was a thin layer of sweat covering his face, beads of moisture rolling down his forehead.

"What happened?" Rose gasped, pulling out a crystal vial from her robes. She dropped a crystal clear liquid onto Scorpius' wounds, and Albus smelt the strong scent of Dittany rise from his skin.

"I… the book… I didn't… didn't know what it would do…" He trailed off as Madam Abbot loomed suddenly over him, a small army of house elves preceding her with more vials of what was clearly Dittany.

"Weasley, Potter. Please go and see Professor Strauss in her office. I'm sure she will want to hear of this." The woman glared at Albus, and he withered beneath her, staring solemnly at Scorpius.

She turned on her heel, and the house elves followed, picking the now sleeping, weakened figure of Scorpius behind them.

Rose glanced at him, and he shook he head, feeling his stomach drop as they walked in the direction of the stone gargoyle. What had he done?


	12. A Phoenix Breath

"Albus! Wait!" Rose hurried to keep up with him, stuffing leather and paper into her satchel as she ran, her hair frizzing out madly around her. Albus didn't listen, hurrying to the Slytherin common room almost manically. His cousin tugged at his sleeves impatiently, eyes pleading.

"Al, come on. We need to go to see Strauss…" She trailed off as Albus disappeared into the common room, leaving her behind to stand against the wall awkwardly. A burly seventh year stepped past her, glancing curiously, and she smiled weakly, fiddling with the catch of her bag for something to do.

Inside the common room, Albus was pulling the Advanced Potion Making book from his bag as he ran to the dormitory, frantically searching for a place to hide it. Seizing his bedding, he pulled the corner of his mattress up, placing the book beneath it before slamming the mattress back down. As he stood back from the bed, he shook his head - what was he doing? - before turning back to the common room, and running to meet Rose once more.

She was stood outside the door, looking impatient as he knelt to breathe beside her.

"What were you doing? Oh never mind, come on." She stormed off in the direction of the headmistress' office, and Albus clattered behind her, the overwhelming feelings of guilt washing over him in never-ending waves.

What had he done? Scorpius was his best friend - had been, anyway, until this had happened. What if the blond were to try and get him expelled? Worse still, what if he never wanted to speak to him again? Just ignored him for the rest of the school years until he faded into obscurity beyond the castle walls…

"Albus!" Rose called from the top of the steps, and he mentally shook himself, before following her up the stairs, to bring them before the imposing statue that stood as the entrance to the headmistress' private offices.

"May we please enter?" Rose stood before the gargoyle, and after a moment's pause, it swung to the side, to reveal an aged spiral staircase, seemingly endless.

The statue had long ago been activated by passwords, but since many students had found ways of guessing the codes used, it had been changed to be activated by a charm; only those with honest intentions could now enter the rooms, and then again, only by Strauss' discrimination. Albus took a breath, and hurried after Rose, nearly slipping on the worn edges of the stone steps.

As they arrived at the top of the staircase, an ancient wooden door appeared before them, upon which was set a small doorknocker in the shape of a phoenix.

_As the right of passage looms, the phoenix fire dulls, and no more shall be heard._

Albus shivered as the words of the "prophecy" rang through his memory, and he pushed forwards to knock the door, preferring to merely rap sharply on the wood, ignoring the glistening golden phoenix head profusely.

"Enter!" A voice called from within, and the two third years glanced at each other uneasily. Wavering at the threshold of the door, Rose turned to her cousin, nudging him forward before her nervously. He stumbled as he pushed the door open, tripping slightly on the uneven flagstones.

As he entered the room, he found himself stifling a gasp; he had never once entered the head teacher's offices, normally only being reprimanded or awarded by his head of house. He vaguely heard Rose enter behind him as he stared around the circular room - strange objects lined the outside of the room, glittering metal machines that occasionally emitted whistling sounds, or the odd knocking boom.

The walls were coated in hundreds of portraits of past headmasters, and Albus gaped, unashamed, as he took in the lavishness of the room. His gaze fell upon the desk before him, behind which was seated the rather tired looking headmistress. Strauss had taken the position over from Professor McGonagall a number of years earlier, though Albus had met the imposing witch several times over the summer breaks as she visited his parents.

The woman sitting before him now was the old headmistress' niece, though she did not appear much younger. Age lines crinkled her face as she perpetually frowned, and her soft grey hair was falling loose from its bun. As she looked up at the two cousins, she sighed, leaning back in her chair, tired.

"Potter, Weasley. Sit, sit!" She brandished her wand perhaps a little over zealously, and a pair of chintz armchairs appeared opposite her beside the desk. Glancing at his cousin, Albus chose a seat, and faced the headmistress grimly. Lines were creasing her forehead, and she rested her chin on her clasped hands sternly.

"Tell me what happened, Potter." She spoke firmly, her tone severe, and he felt himself quailing at the thought of his father's book, nestled between the bed covers down in the Slytherin dormitories. Closing his eyes to banish the thought, aware that the woman could be practicing legilimency that very second, he breathed deeply, feeling Rose fix a gaze not dissimilar to the headmistress' upon him.

"I… well, we argued. That is, me and Scorpius - uh, Scorpius and I. He was taunting me about a friend, and I think I just got annoyed. We've been arguing a little lately. I think… I just… well." He trailed off, and she fixed him with a discerning gaze, unwavering as he looked down at the floral pattern of the armchair.

"Where did you learn such a spell, Albus?" Her voice softened, and he looked up at her, surprised. Her eyes were calm, perceiving, and he blocked his mind immediately.

_The axeman he hacked and he whacked and he thwacked,_

_"Won't be too long", he assured me,_

_But quick it was not, and the bone-headed clot,_

_Took forty-five goes 'til he floored me._

He thought of a song he had heard one of the Hogwarts ghosts singing only days ago, and sighed with relief as she gave a barely noticeable nod. He looked back up at her, and smiled grimly.

"I think I must have read it in a book, professor. I didn't know what it would do, I swear. He's… he's my best friend. Is he going to be okay?" He felt hot tears begin well, and she gave him one last look before nodding. He felt relief flood him, and he made to leap up before thinking better of it.

"Could I… well, could I visit him?" He looked at her pleadingly, and she nodded, a small smile flickering over her expression.

"There were two other boys at this school once, Mr Potter. Very similar to you and Mr Malfoy. Very similar indeed. This has happened before, and I am thankful to say that this time, the reactions on both parties are much better than before. I am glad to see you care for your friend. Your predecessors were not so empathetic.

There is still the matter of punishment however. Such acts must not go undisciplined. I expect you to attend a detention each Saturday night for the next month, Mr Potter. Please attend to Professor Hagrid's tasks as well as you can." She gave a small smile, and Albus grinned at the punishment, realising that it was not as bad as it could have been.

Expecting to be dismissed, Albus was surprised to see the headmistress turn to Rose sternly.

"Now, Miss Weasley, could you please tell me how you managed to get your hands on half of the school's supply of Dittany?"

* * *

The corridors were quiet as Albus wandered through them; most people were in their common rooms as it was so late. Rose had abandoned him as they left the headmistress' office, scurrying to the Ravenclaw common room as fast as she could. She wasn't used to being in trouble, it seemed, and having her entire stock of Dittany confiscated, whether ferreted away from the hospital ward, or sent in by her paranoid grandmother counted as trouble in her mind.

His footsteps echoed as he trod the now familiar path to the hospital wing. He thought back to the times he, himself had spent time there, from first year's Mandrake Root incident, to second year's wizard duelling club accident. He winced at the memories, rubbing his head ruefully as he stepped closer to the hospital wing. Guilt once again had taken over, the feeling in the pit of his stomach overpowering as he picked his feet reluctantly to see Scorpius.

As the doors appeared before him, they swung open to admit him, and he stood in the centre of the room, the vaulted ceiling above seeming hundreds of miles away.

Feeling sick, he walked slowly over to the farthest bed, the spray of white blond hair on the pillow marking who was occupying it. He neared the still-sleeping Scorpius, and held back a gasp of horror as his eyes took in the sight; the Slytherin looked tiny against the expanse of white sheets, pale and small and insignificant. Albus swallowed hard as his eyes grazed his friend's body - the boy was shirtless, multiple bandages encircling around his pale chest. Where the cuts weren't as deep, they had been left uncovered, the red welts looking painful even after what Albus expected were generous lashings of Dittany. He sat down slowly on the seat beside Scorpius, gazing at his broken body, downcast. He heard somebody moving around in the office, but ignored it, preferring to sit solitarily in his guilt.

The blond was pale, paler than he ever had been, and Albus reached out a hand to touch his. The skin was warm, feverish, and without thinking, Albus leant to kiss the boy's forehead.

"I'm sorry."


	13. A Confession Unsung

The room swam before him, and he struggled to move, feeling what felt like ropes clamped around his body. In his waking moments, he had come to the conclusion that his skin was burning; his body felt as if he were bathed in flames, and he resisted stoically to resist the urge - the need - the scream. Opening his eyes gradually, he immediately shut them again, sight burning at the entrance of so much light. Instead, he used his other senses to focus on where he was; the feeling of rough blankets against his skin told him that he was not in his dormitory, but somewhere else, somewhere far less lavish. The Gryffindor dormitories? He laughed inwardly at his own joke, old house rivalry showing itself in his semi consciousness. He breathed in deeply, almost choking at the strong scent of medicine in the air, and he focused his hearing at once; metal clattered around him, and he could hear people moving about quickly. The hospital wing, the noises confirmed, and he resisted the urge to groan.

He felt the fire upon his limbs begin to lessen, and the ropes binding him seemed to dissipate almost automatically; maybe they had been part of his own imagination, he did not know. He let out a small groan, and something tightened suddenly around his hand; somebody else was holding tightly to him, and it came rushing back; the library, his incessant need to argue, the look in Albus' eyes as he had come at him.

Albus - the memory of pain, so much pain, filled him, and he remembered how he had fallen, first surprised, then terrified as blood pooled around him upon the floor, reflecting his own petrified expression back at him with all too much clarity. Garish, crimson clarity. He shuddered in the gurney, and weakly pulled his hand away, feeling repulsed as he remembered it all.

"Scorpius? I'm… I'm sorry." The other Slytherin sounded so small, so far away, that Scorpius was not sure if the voice was even real, or a dream of his own invention. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes once more, this time prepared for the onslaught of the brightness. He winced as a bright whiteness filled his vision, and he felt relief as somebody dimmed the lights of the ward almost in answer to his pain. He turned his head to the side wearily, and took in the sight of his friend sat beside him, deep, purple shadows bruising the skin beneath his eyes. His skin was mottled from exhaustion, and his hair was more of a mess than usual, reflecting perhaps the levels of Albus' inner anxiety.

"You're awake." He stated, and Scorpius nodded slowly, opening his mouth to speak, only to find his throat dry and parched. Seeing his difficulty, Albus reach next to him for a glass, and held it out to him, unsure. Scorpius tried to move his limbs, only to find resistance, not from invisible ropes this time, but from his own exhaustion. Shaking his head, he looked longingly at the glass of pure, clean water, and Albus sighed, looking almost frightened as he reached to tip the blond's head forward, placing the beaker against his lips. Thankfully, Scorpius drank the water, though it tasted vile as it slipped down his sore throat; whether this was from the fact that it was probably imbued with three hundred different potions, or purely down to his throat's reluctance to accept, he didn't know, but regardless, he drank deeply, thankful for the relief of the cool, calming water.

"I'm sorry." Albus had cast his eyes down, and Scorpius felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. He didn't know how to feel at the moment in time; everything was wrong, Albus had done something he shouldn't be able to forgive him for, but at the same time, Albus was lifting his head for him, and helping him drink.

"It's… oka-" He started, but Albus looked up at him furiously, stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't tell me it's okay. It's not okay, it will never be okay, and it wasn't okay before." Albus grimaced, and Scorpius looked at him, confused. Before? There had never been any before, had there? Unless somebody had executed one very good obliviation charm on him, there was definitely no before.

"Before?" He whispered hoarsely, blanching at how ill he sounded. The one word hurt to speak, and he decided to keep quiet for now as Albus continued, looking sad, defeated even.

"I've been speaking to Madame Abbot whilst you've been here. She's been very helpful." He sounded bitter, and Scorpius frowned, resisting squeezing Albus' hand reassuringly; he deemed that with Albus in the state he was in, it would not be a good idea.

"The spell - well, curse actually - that I found in the book, my dad once used it," He swallowed, looking faintly ill, and breathed in before continuing, "he used it on your dad, Scorp. My martyred, perfect dad, he used the curse on your dad. The same as I did; we both had no idea what it was. I don't think… I think I've done something stupid." He moved to draw something from the bag at his feet, and Scorpius stared at a point on Albus' shoulder. Mr Potter had done something like this to his dad? Maybe… maybe this was why they hated each other, he wondered inwardly.

Albus drew his attention once more as he placed a moth eaten old advanced potion making book at the side of the gurney, and Scorpius cocked his head to one side as Albus flipped absentmindedly through the pages.

"A while ago, Teddy gave me this. He told me it had been my dad's, but I think he may have been wrong. It just… it doesn't seem like it would have been his. He hated potions, for one thing! There're things in it that don't seem right, take this for example." He jabbed a finger at a scrawled passage that he had found, and held the book closer for Scorpius to read. The writer sounded vehement, angry. The idiots in question sounded infuriating, but Albus was right; it did not sound like something that the infamous Mr Potter would have written.

Albus flipped forward a number of pages further, landing upon another handwritten scrawl.

_Sectumsempra, for enemies._

Scorpius merely looked at his friend, trying to put as much feeling - that of sadness, and disappointment - into his eyes as he could. Albus had considered him an enemy, in those moments of mere taunting? Curse the younger Potter's curiosity, he thought regretfully, wishing he had never said those things about the future. Of course he didn't want to leave Hogwarts; it was his home for so much of the year, and he loved his lessons, his teachers - Albus… he clenched his eyes, and pushed his head back to the pillow, silently wishing Albus away as a wave of pain racked his body. The emotions rode over him, and he felt something wet fall down his face as he realised that he was crying. Albus coughed, and Scorpius felt something snap. Turning to look at his friend, he pushed as much anger as he could exude into his expression, and opened his mouth to speak reluctantly.

"Fuck off." He uttered the words guiltily, and watched the brunette's face fall, before he stumbled to his feet, grabbing his bag from the floor before running out of the hospital wing, followed by Madame Abbot yelling at him about running about around the sick residents.

Closing his eyes, Scorpius sank back against the pillows, fists clenched angrily.

"Mr Malfoy, are you awake? Would you like a drink? Come on, let's get your medicine down you." Madame Abbot bustled up to him, and he sighed, staring up at the vaulted ceiling above him, wishing he could see the sky above like he could in the great hall.

* * *

"Could you show me again, Rose? It's a little confusing…" A small voice brought his attention closer, and Scorpius staggered slightly toward the two red heads, wincing at the pain in his chest as he walked. He had been let out of the hospital wing at last, with threats to fasten him down to the gurney for a week again if he forgot to take the potion Madame Abbot had prescribed him.

"Hey." He murmured behind them, and the two Ravenclaws flew from their seats, taking in his appearance obviously as they moved to hug him gently.

"Scorpius! Are you alright?" Lily lisped daintily, and he smiled at her, nodding as she pressed one hand gingerly against his bandaged arm. The cuts there had healed reluctantly, and various salves were still being applied daily before lessons by a disgruntled Madame Abbot to make the wounds heal.

"You gave us all a shock." Rose told him, looking at him with an expression that made him almost uncomfortable; he had met her mother a few times, and could relate easily the similarities. Her gaze was discerning, as if she were trying to work something out, or convey some message that he most likely did not want to hear.

He had not seen Albus since that first day, and now, almost a week later, he had no idea what he was going to do about it. In one sense, he felt bad for how horrible he'd been, but then in another sense, that horrible was _nothing_ in comparison to Albus' horrible. He winced as he moved slightly, his bag brushing against his side painfully, as if in reminded of what his best friend had done.

He looked back to the two Ravenclaws, and smiled shakily, trying not to be too obvious with how much pain he was still in.

"Have you seen Professor Lupin?" He asked, not wanting to get all the way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts office only to find the man not there. Rose nodded, gesturing in the direction of the staff table, and Scorpius twisted abruptly (and painfully, he realised with a grimace) to see the man looking decidedly tired as he oversaw a small gaggle of third years studying at the end of the long table. His teal hair was dishevelled, and his robes were falling open to reveal a creased shirt and tie, stained slightly. Puzzled, Scorpius shook his head as Rose gestured once more, deciding to talk to the man later on in the day, when he was less obviously exhausted.

"Hey!" Rose spoke loudly, almost pointedly, and Scorpius turned, only his head, to see Albus sit down beside him, face burning red as he heaved his Charms essay from his bag. Making to move, Scorpius saw how disheartened his friend looked, and thought better of it, as he noticed the purple shadows beneath his friend's eyes had not shifted. Smiling uncertainly at his friend, he saw Rose turn to Lily, trying hard to ignore them, though he could see her straining slightly to listen in.

Sighing, he turned to Albus, who was still staring fixedly at the table before him, as if he would disappear if he stared long and hard enough. Bottling his pride, Scorpius reached over, squeezing the brunette's shoulder kindly.

"I forgive you." He whispered, trying not to let Rose overhear - let her find out by asking for once, he thought - and Albus turned to him, a small smile reaching his lips at last.

"I didn't mean for it to happen." He whispered back, his own eyes leaping at Rose, who looked down, blushing, before ushering Lily further away down the table.

"I know." Scorpius smiled, before looking down at Albus' essay, noticing at once that the boy had made what appeared to be a thousand mistakes.

"You want some help?" 


	14. A Whispered Promise

Breakfast over, the four drew away from the table, pushing their satchels higher up their downcast shoulders; disgruntled, they were ushered through the great hall doors by a dishevelled Professor Longbottom, who didn't even acknowledge their appearance. Rose was still gripping a hefty "light reading" book she had extracted from the depths of the library to try and overcome Scorpius' natural talents in potions, and as the group moved sullenly toward the gloom filled dungeons, Albus bit on his lip thoughtfully, deep in thought as he fiddled nervously at the hem of his cloak.

Something nudged against his elbow and he looked up to see his sister glaring at him in all her furious, ginger glory. Her eyebrow was raised suspiciously, and he gulped under her gaze.

"What?" He asked somewhat obnoxiously, and the girl sighed, shaking her head in what seemed to be pity.

"You're hopeless sometimes, Al, you know that?" She tutted, before moving to catch up with a small gaggle of first year Ravenclaws on their way to Charms.

Bewildered, he stared after her, a frowned puckering his forehead slightly. A hand clapped down on his back, and he jumped, startled, only to see Scorpius laughing hysterically at his fright.

"Yeah yeah, nice to see you've forgiven me, asshole." He grumbled, before pushing the blond into a statue of a rather wart infested old hag and legging it down the corridor, causing Rose to exclaim in irritation as she dropped her book to the ground.

(-)

Slughorn prowled down the aisle between the benches, and Albus crouched lower of his already smoking cauldron, looking around with pleading eyes at Rose from across the room. Waving his hands frantically over the billowing clouds of sulphurous black smoke, he grabbed his wand, mentally scanning through all the spells he knew to fix it before the inevitable explosion that was sure to happen if he didn't think of a solution.

"Potter, kindly tell me what this congealing mess in your cauldron appears to be before it destroys my classroom." The rumbling voice of the walrus-like teacher appeared to his right, and he groaned, waving his wand again, more panicked as it started to smell of rotten eggs.

"Well, professor…" he gasped under the stench of acidic potion ingredients burning, "I think I may have forgotten to add the powdered moth wings…" He pleaded inwardly for the smell to dissipate so that he could breathe, and Slughorn sighed, waving his wand to get rid of the affects of Albus' potion wearily.

"Potter, if only you had some of your father's talents… or indeed your grandmother's… it is indeed a pity." He sighed once more, moustache rippling as he mumbled under his breath, moving on to berate a Slytherin girl behind him for adding too much unicorn tale to her potion, which had resulting in a bright glare around her potion that was blinding several bystanders next to her.

"The next time I ask you to prepare a new potion under pressure, I expect you all to fare far better than this. As third years, you should be expected to work at the merest mention of an unknown potion. If it happens that you need to produce something in a life threatening situation that you haven't even heard of before, this skill should prove important. I can't be having young witches and wizards everywhere accidentally killing people because they haven't heard of a potion to cure a broken spine, or some such problem." He grumbled more and more as he heaved himself to his desk, dismissing them with a wave of his hand, and orders to have produced their potions to perfection by the end of the term.

Mentally adding the homework to the already growing list in his mind, Albus groaned at the prospect of so little free time, contemplating gracing the giant squid with his presence for the rest of his life, permanently.

"Come on, Al, you look like you've been petrified. Let's get down to Charms before Flitwick murders us for being late. Grab Rose on your way out." They hurried out of the door, Albus still stuffing his potion ingredients in his bag as they pulled Rose from her simmering potion by the front of the room.

"Oh get you, little miss perfect. How come you didn't balls yours up?" Scorpius frowned, looking at the scorch marks that punctuated his fair skin up to the elbows morosely. Rose sniffed, looking scathingly at the boys.

"I listen, you twit. Now, if you don't mind, I have places to be." With a flick of her bushy hair, she flounced off, leaving the two Slytherins behind her, looking bemused at the display. Shrugging, Scorpius started off down the hall, before Albus suddenly came to a decision, grabbing his friend's arm, dragging the blond to a darkened alcove a little ways down the corridor.

Scorpius looked down at Albus' hand upon his arm, puzzlement resting upon his brow.

"Al, what-"

The other boy merely looked at him, shaking his head, before leaning forward with all the bravery of a Gryffindor, and kissing the blond on the lips gently. Eyes widening, impossibly, Scorpius stared at his friend as he pulled away sharply. The boy's eyes were closed, his mouth down turned.

"I'm sorry. I- I needed to do that." Blushing a deep red, he turned in the corridor, and ran off in the opposite direction of Charms, leaving Scorpius behind in the alcove, touching one slender finger to his lips, a curious look upon his face.

(-)

"Is it working?" The voice was low, panicked. Once bright eyes were frantic, dimmed by panic, and a hand drew nervously through bedraggled hair.

"Yes, please stop worrying. Everything will be fine, eventually." The voice in answer was smooth, soothing. It was almost a calming draft, and the face in the fire relaxed slightly, small wisps of smoke blowing around it's mouth as it exhaled with a slight breathlessness.

"We must be sure that the plan runs perfectly, you understand? If even one thing goes wrong…" The face in the fire visibly shuddered, and began to fade out in farewell.

"Everything will be fine, father, everything will be fine. Just leave me to it." The face nodded, and disappeared completely. Once again, the Slytherin common room fell to silence, the silver work serpents upon the dark mahogany wood of the fireplace seeming to grin in conspiracy at each other.

(-)

The silken hangings of his bed were practically burning permanent images into his eyelids, for all of the time that Scorpius had spent staring up at them. The sounds of gentle snoring were drifting around the room from the others boys, but try as he might, he could not sleep. Glancing morosely at the empty bottle of dreamless sleep at his bedside, he tossed over to his side, glaring instead now at the slight view of the window, with its slender slither of moonlight drawing through it.

The memory of Albus' kiss was still reverberating about his mind, no matter how he tried to banish it. Waking dreams had skewed the kiss, so that he was not entirely sure what was real anymore; images of Albus leaning towards him, taking his chin gently in hand floating lazily across his eyelids, taunting him to breathlessness. Thoughts of how soft the other boy's lips had felt - now those thoughts were definitely real.

Someone was murmuring on the other side of the room, and he froze, muscles tensing in anticipation for… something he was not entirely sure of.

"Scorpius…" Someone muttered, and he shot up as if he had been hit by a bucket of ice down the back. Pulling back his hangings slightly, he glanced over at Albus' bed, to see the brunette had left his hangings open, and was tossing and turning in his sleep, eyes clenched shut, hands clawing tightly at his quilt.

Glancing around nervously, Scorpius brushed a strand of blond out of his eye as he knelt down to grab his dressing gown. Wrapping it tightly around himself, he breathed in deeply, before pushing himself up from the bed, and crawling silently across the room to where Albus was still whimpering, clearly afraid, in his sleep.

Sitting gently beside his friend, he stretched out a hand nervously, hesitating slightly before pressing a palm against Albus' shoulder.

"Al, Al wake up, it's just a nightmare." He whispered, trying his best to sound calm. The other boy merely groaned in response, turning onto his side, and instinctively clinging to Scorpius' dressing gown sleeve as if his life depended on it.

"Albus!" He whispered louder, shaking his friend awake harshly.

"Wha… what's that?" The boy mumbled, shaking his head and blinking curiously, looking not dissimilar to an owl.

"You were having a nightmare, mate." Scorpius winced at the seemingly casual use of the endearment, and Albus nodded slowly, a small frown framing his face.

"I… you were in it. You were…" He shuddered, and shook his head, curling up into a small, Albus shaped ball beside Scorpius, eyes shut tightly in remembrance.

"So, I take it you won't be needing Professor Longbottom's ancient remembrall to help you with the fine details?" He smiled slightly at the lame attempt at a joke, but Albus merely shook his head, a faraway look in his now open eyes.

"You… you died."


	15. A Heralded Gathering

"Merrily the witches sing, dance and twirl in the faery ring, laugh and play in the night-time light, wands aloft and set a-bright…" Lily spun happily around the common room, waving her slender cherry wand in front of her as it sped through the air, casting streams of tinsel atop the furniture.

"Will you be quiet Lily? I'm trying to get this done, I don't want to get in trouble." Rose scoffed at the singing first year scornfully, and Lily's face fell slightly as the reams of tinsel drooped to the floor around her feet. Shaking her head, she sheathed her wand in the waistband of her skirt, before throwing herself down beside her cousin on the comfiest sofas in the room, nearest to the burning fire.

The red-head shuffled along the sofa to make room for the younger girl, sighing in exasperation as the girl drew a blanket about her shoulders, shivering in the cold of the winter evening.

"Do you think all these things will right themselves, Rose?" Lily enquired shyly, referring to an earlier conversation. Her cousin shrugged, scratching out a mistake on an open potions essay, and muttering under her breath as she hurriedly corrected it.

"I mean, everything seems a little… disordered at the moment. Albus and Scorpius, too. Something's going on, I'm sure of it." Lily was now half speaking to herself, no matter whether Rose was listening or not. The Weasley girl merely half glanced at the first year, rolling her eyes before continuing with her essay.

"Of _course_ there's something going on. That much is obvious. But it's none of our business Lily." She sighed, folding her essay away in defeat. She looked at Lily with narrowed eyes; the girl was too bright, too observant, for her own good. It was perfect.

"Which is why, of course, we need to go spying." She grinned, and Lily laughed, jumping up and speeding to the common room entrance, casting a disillusionment charm over herself as she moved.

* * *

"Scorpius, where are we going?" Albus laughed as the pair skittered down the now fast moving staircases, leaping for the landing of the entrance hall as the bottom step began to swing in the opposite direction. Cloaks brushing against the moving banisters, the youngest Malfoy bent down briefly to breathe hard in exertion, before running once more without giving an answer to the brunette boy.

"Scorp!" He yelled after him, leaning against a statue to catch his breath before running after his friend once more. Lines of Christmas trees stood like sentries against the walls of the Great Hall as the two boys ran down the centre of the room, causing heads to turn in curiosity from each of the four house tables.

Finally, Scorpius appeared to slow, skidding to a halt before the end of the Slytherin table, flourishing his arm towards something perched on the edge of the wood proudly. Confused, Albus looked at the package, which had been haphazardly wrapped in brightly coloured paper decorated with fluttering golden snitches.

"For me?" He inched towards the paper covered object, curiosity overcoming his confusion as his friend nodded, grinning madly.

"Early Christmas present, mate." Albus cringed slightly at his friend's endearment; it was a word that had continuously cropped up lately, sounding slightly forced occasionally on Scorpius' part. Shaking the thought aside, he touched one hesitant finger against the present, watching the glittering snitches wave their wings almost lazily against the crimson background.

"What is it?" He narrowed his eyes at the blond, made cautious by the boy's mischievous grin. Scorpius merely grinned wider, nodding at the package eagerly.

"Only one way to find out!" He laughed, edging back slightly in some sort of anticipation. Still not filling the middle Potter with particular confidence, he gingerly began to pull the wrapping paper aside, clenching his eyes partially shut in case whatever it was posed a threat to his health and sight.

As he pulled the last scraps of paper aside, his eyes widened at the box revealed. Smooth, mahogany wood was lacquered into a beautifully dark surface, practically black in the light of the rolling snow clouds above. Still slightly suspicious, he gripped his fingers against the brightly polished silver clasp, flicking it open in one smooth movement.

"Is this some sort of joke Scorp?" He asked, aghast at the empty box that sat before him. Besides him, his friend howled with laughter, bending over slightly at the waist as he struggled to breath.

"You'll get the rest on Christmas Day! Now come on, dude, we need to get the train home. Come on!" He skipped down the now disinterested hall, still cackling with glee as Albus slouched sullenly behind him, clutching the empty box in his arms, glaring suspiciously before him.

* * *

"Are you certain you have enough, Albus?" The voice of his grandmother leaning over him made him jump at last three feet in the air as the aging Molly appeared over his shoulder, brandishing a gravy covered ladle in one hand almost threateningly. Nodding, he edged away, dragging his bowl with him in case she tried to force a fifth helping into it.

"Can never have enough food at Christmas." She chuckled, before turning the ladle on her next victim, and Albus sidled away, leaving his bowl to be forgotten on the old oaken table. It was Christmas Eve at the Burrow, and relatives from all walks of life were gathered in the tiny kitchen and living room of the ramshackle house. By the front door stood an amused Harry Potter, leaning one shoulder against the wall, looking decidedly more elegant than he ever had in his youth. Hair tousled, with mild wrinkles forming around his eyes and mouth, he had finally grown out of his gangling youth, and into a well formed, good looking man, with all the charm that a world class seeker was expected to have.

"Al!" He called quietly to his son, and the brunette sighed, heading over to where his father was beckoning to him.

"Did she give you more food?"

"No Dad."

"It's good food."

"I don't care, I think my belly is about to explode."

Harry laughed, ruffling his son's hair delightedly, as Ron stepped into the conversation, looking slightly redder in the face than usual, tilting a little to one side.

"Uncle Ron, are you okay?" Albus asked, shocked at the Weasley's appearance. Ron grimaced, nodding in the direction of his fussing mother.

"Young Albus, the only way to survive this torture when you're our age is to get happily m… me… merry." He hiccupped as Harry laughed at him, clapping him heartily on the back.

"You just want an excuse to get pickled, mate." He smiled as Ron carried on in the direction of the bathroom, closely followed by a distracted Hermione, her hair frizzing out of its ponytail in stress as Hugo ran ahead of her, hiding a bottle of vodka slightly bigger than his own head under his bright emerald Weasley jumper.

Albus giggled slightly at his family's antics, before turning back to his distracted his father.

"What did you want, anyway, Dad?" He enquired, anxious to getting back to the Christmas party. The elder Potter looked puzzled for a moment, then brightened at once as if in remembrance.

"Ah, yes. Erm, son, how close are you right now to Scorpius?" Harry looked suitably abashed as his cheeks reddened at his suspicious tone. Albus' eyed widened, and he backtracked slightly before answering slowly, surely.

"He's my best friend, Dad. Why?" He looked over to where the blond was stood looking mildly uncomfortable in the presence of so many Weasleys. He was stood with his parents; his father looked mildly ill as his wife, Astoria, gossiped good naturedly with Ginny Potter.

"Your mother and I were merely wondering… you seem to be acting a little differently around each other to usual." Harry tried to appear nonchalant, but Albus could feel the rising panic as the conversation turned in a direction he really was not comfortable with.

"We're fine, Dad. Now can I go save him? Rose and James keep eyeing him with that box of tinsel a little too evilly. See ya!" He bounded off away before Harry could say anymore, feeling his heart pound slightly in his chest as he watched Scorpius raise his head to see the brunette scampering over, expression visibly brightening.

What was going on with the pair of them? Albus had puzzled over the situation for a good two weeks, pushing the other problems aside to deal with his sudden situation with his best friend. He was sure that the blond had kissed him back outside the dungeons that day; he had replayed it no end of times in his head, the memory still fresh in his mind.

But Scorpius had turned his default setting towards Albus to calm, collected and slightly cold since then, referring to him more and more as "mate", as if to concretely set boundaries in stone.

"Albus, please Merlin, just save me from this party, now. I feel as if I'm being crushed on all sides by overwhelming levels of ginger." The tone of Scorpius' voice was partially manic, hysterical even. Albus tried to quell a laugh at his friend's expression - he would stick with friend, for now. For now - but a snort escaped his lips, to be met by the typical Malfoy glare that Scorpius had clearly inherited from his father. With a slight glance to the senior Malfoy, whose long blond hair trailed smoothly down his back as he moved, Scorpius was given permission to leave the room by an almost imperceptible nod as Draco was intercepted by a far too eager Luna, who was adorned tonight by what appeared to be large, violet hued cabbaged hanging from her ears.

"Come on." He muttered as he spotted Rose and James edging ever closer with what seemed to be now enchanted tinsel. He wound his way through the room, followed by a gladdened Albus, breathing with relief as he felt his father's stare leave the back of his head finally as he slipped from sight.

They headed up the staircase, for the room shared by Albus, Scorpius and James near the top of the Burrow's rickety structure. The bedroom was brightly coloured in orange and black wallpaper, with a window overlooking the wild garden which was currently hidden under a soft blanket of deep snow. The room had previously been his uncle Ron's, years and years ago. Collapsing on the bed nearest the window, Albus sighed, glad to finally be away from the hustle and bustle of the party downstairs.

Scorpius followed suit, sinking into the air mattress that adorned the floor beside Albus' bed for the duration of their week long stay. Scorpius' family had also been invited to stay the entire week, but they had only deigned to drop by for the one manic party day.

"I'm wiped." The blond exhaled into his overlong fringe as he lay back, staring at the glaringly orange colours of the ceiling above. Albus agreed, resting his own head back against the pillow of his bed.

"Albus?"

"Mm?"

"Why did you do it?"

Albus lifted his head up to look at his friend, frowning.

"Do what?" He asked, knowing the answer anyway as his heart clenched painfully.

"K… kiss me." Scorpius stammered the words out, looking down with a crimson face, humiliated. Humiliated at being kissed by a boy, guessed Albus morosely. He sighed, laying back on the bed with his eyes closed in a sudden burst of introverted shyness. He heard movement on the floor as the blond, he assumed, edged away from him.

"I just… did. I needed to. Wanted to, as well, if you must kn-" He was stopped halfway through his sentence as a weight landed on the bed beside him, and soft lips were pressed gently against his own.

Opening his eyes briefly, he was met by a view of soft eyelashes against pale, unblemished skin and a mop of equally pale, blond hair. But no matter what he saw, he could feel; the other boy's lips were soft, slightly wet against his own chapped lips as they moved gently, curiously across his mouth, exploring in a slightly eager way. From the way Scorpius pressed slightly too hard, slightly too unsure, it was clear that the blond had never kissed anybody else, but Albus didn't care. He merely leaned back further, pulling the other boy with him as he entwined his fingers in the long, soft hair that fell forwards towards him.

Something he had wanted to do for so long, he thought, as he felt warmth against him as Scorpius pulled his full weight onto the bed at last, placing one leg either side of him. In such close proximity, Scorpius' previous beginner status in the area of kissing vanished, coming in leaps and bounds as his pointed tongue gently probed at Albus', soft and delicate against him.

Sighing into the kiss, Albus' fingers tightened in the blond's hair, one hand trailing curiously under his shirt to brush against soft, almost velvet like skin.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Scorpius pulled away, opening his eyes to stare into Albus' own bright eyes with a somewhat dazed look.

"I've wanted… can't believe… thank you." He whispered against Albus' lips, before rolling away from him to lay by his side upon the vividly orange bedding, as snow began to fall once more outside the window.

As the two Slytherin boys lay side by side, Albus decided that actually, green wasn't his favourite colour anymore; orange wasn't too bad after all.


	16. A Falsetto Disguise

The castle was rife with hustle and bustle as the students returned home from the Christmas holidays. As the festive season began to fade into memory, it was overcome by a tide of panic as students were faced with the sudden onslaught of exam preparation. Students such as Rose had taken to walking around the castle with a book permanently stuck under their noses, as they attempted to memorise entire libraries in time for June. As teachers patrolled the halls in search of rogue lengths of tinsel, and the occasionally exploding snap card that had escaped from a particularly violent set of Christmas crackers, students fell into the lull of exam revision, an odd quiet settling over the castle as people were overcome with a lethargy that comes from too much work.

Scorpius was sat in the farthest corner of the library, having finally escaped the hoards of frantic first years, with a particularly nasty history of magic essay sat before him on the table. He listlessly scratched a quill over the parchment, attempting to write notes, but ending up with nothing more than brightly dancing scribbles, bouncing around the paper's boundaries as an unintended enchantment animated them. Groaning, he rested his head in his hands, clenching his eyes shut as a headache fell over him. Nearly jumping out of his skin, his forehead banged painfully against the table as someone yelled his name from the library's entrance. Rubbing his head, he glanced over, and waved over a frantic looking Rose.

She yelled his name happily, earning her a glare from the librarian, and practically bounded over to him, her hair askew, her bag weighed down with more books than was good for a person. She lunged over to the bench where he was sat, barely managing to stop herself from falling off of it thanks to the weight of her bag. Scorpius eyed the contents warily, seeing not only books and Rose's own time management planners, but also one coloured in a bright green, with his name written on it in glaringly large letters.

"What's wrong Rose?" He asked nervously, eyeing the satchel with caution; however, Rose seemed unfazed, and pushed the bag to one side. Raising an eyebrow, he crossed his arms impatiently, though quite glad for the distraction from his essay.

"Have you seen Albus? " She huffed noisily, earning her yet another glare from the sharp eared librarian. She glared back at her, before turning to Scorpius once more, expression expectant.

"Well?" She prompted, tone impatient.

"Oh, erm, no, not since Potions, why?" He asked, and she shook herself, drawing her up to her fullest height – though this still wasn't much, in comparison to Scorpius' thin, lanky body; even sat down, he was at least four inches taller than the girl.

"Lupin's looking for him; says he needs to have a word. Also, he owes me this week's timetable for his time management. Which reminds me!" She reached into the dreaded satchel, pulling out the lurid green diary. His name, written in stark capitals across the front, gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"You know, you're a lot like your mother, you know that, Rose?" He sighed at her as she flipped through the pages of it, looking for all the world like a witch with a mission. Taking out a diary of her own, she set the two next to each other, performing a charm. Instantly, the new diary became the twin of his, and he groaned.

"Every time you update your work load on here," she pointed to his copy of the journal, "it'll update on my copy, here! Isn't it clever? Now none of us will ever fail an exam, because we'll all be doing the right amount of work!" She grinned at him, her eyes glinting in a way that said, "if you don't update, I'll throw you from the Gryffindor tower room window". Sighing, he took the book, sliding it across the table to put it next to his history of magic essay. Rose smiled, teeth shining in the overhead lamps. Standing up, she waved goodbye with her fingers, practically skipping off out of the library, probably intent on creating a perfectly time managed hell for somebody else. Hopefully James.

* * *

The hallway was silent as Albus climbed the stairs to the defence against the dark arts office. His mind was elsewhere, probably somewhere in a corner kissing Scorpius, as his feet dragged in the direction of the classroom. His bag was weighed down considerably by his schoolbooks, and some tripe that Rose had forced on him the day before; some ridiculous revision schedule that he had decided, even as she was explaining it to him, to throw in the lake to give to the giant squid.

Sighing, he fingered a thin piece of string around his wrist; Scorpius had given him it on Christmas day as a stand by present, since, apparently, a particularly careless house elf had accidentally lost his "spectacular surprise" the day before the intended receiving date. Chuckling to himself, he climbed the last few steps of the staircase; as his foot landed on the landing, the staircase gave way behind him, twisting to lead up to the Gryffindor common room instead. Shaking his head at his luck, Albus continued up the corridor, surprised at how quiet the hallways were, given that lessons had just ended.

Shrugging it off, he headed for the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, knocking a clenched hand on the hard panelled wood, and waiting a moment before entering the room.

"Hello, Albus." Teddy Lupin was sat at his desk, legs outstretched, an open book spread across his lap. His teal hair looked slightly unkempt, sticking up in a way that reminded Albus of his dad. Smiling, Albus closed the door behind him, before taking the chair offered.

"What was it you wanted to see me about, sir?" Teddy smiled at him, leaning forward, and crossing his legs beneath his chair. Placing the book on the side, Teddy spread his hands out in front of him.

"I wanted to tell you a bit of a story, actually, Albus my boy." He grinned good naturedly, and Albus shrugged, motioning for Teddy to continue.

"When I was in school, I was friends with a boy; he was one of those lads that everyone loved. He was good looking, the girls said, clever, the teachers supposed. He acted, as some might say, as a bit of a saint. But personally, I saw through him. He wasn't good looking; only famous. He wasn't clever, only lucky. And he only acted like a saint to get something for himself. In my fifth year, he showed his true colours. He showed himself for what he was; he insulted me, my family, and my honour. Did you know that, Albus?" Teddy's voice was slow, steady. Albus frowned, leaning back in his seat slightly.

"Erm, no, sir? But what does this have to do with me? Today?" Unlike Teddy's voice, Albus' own was shaking slightly, as were his hands, placed nervously beneath the desk, out of sight. Teddy grinned, teeth shiny and straight.

"Because, Albus, that boy, that insufferable, arrogant, pretentious boy... was your father." Teddy smiled, but this time, the look was knowing, and somewhat evil. Albus started, confused.

"But that's impossible! You weren't even born when my dad was in school!" Albus stood up abruptly, pushing the chair out behind him, and starting for the door, panicked. Teddy stood at the same time, his own chair falling to the floor behind him. Pulling his wand from his pocket swiftly, he quickly cast a locking charm on the door, sealing it shut.

"Alohomora!" Albus shouted at the door frantically, but it wouldn't budge. Behind him, Teddy began to laugh.

"Do you really think, little boy, that I would cast a charm on the door that you of all people could get through? You're just like your father, you know that? Just as arrogant, just as pretentious. You walk around this castle, you and that despicable Malfoy character, as if you both own the place! And I've seen what the two of you do as well, and it makes me sick. Kissing and cavorting... you shouldn't be allowed to be happy. Not when the rest of us can't!" As Teddy rasped, his appearance began to slowly change. In a fluid motion, his narrow, aristocratic chin began to give way to a rugged, square jawline. Hair began to sprout across the sides of his face in a roughly trimmed beard. His nose slowly transformed from straight, and narrow, to slightly upturned, freckled. Those blue eyes that Albus had come to know so well turned to a dark amber, set beneath what had now become sandy, fine straight hair. Stood before Albus was now a man that he had come to recognise from many of his father's school photographs as Seamus Finnegan.

"You aren't going anyway, Albus."


End file.
